


Like Water in the Desert

by green-leaf (greenleaf)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - The Mummy Fusion, Ancient Egypt, Ancient History, Archaeology, Drama & Romance, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, F/M, Honorable Thief, Kidnapping, M/M, Minor Injuries, Minor Violence, Multi, Mystery, Puzzles and Languages, Treasure Hunting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-14
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2019-11-18 00:00:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 56,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18109169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greenleaf/pseuds/green-leaf
Summary: Stiles was an academic. He was not a mercenary, only occasionally a fighter, and definitely not a thief because his Sheriff Dad would kill him. He could be considered a treasure hunter, maybe, though he sought treasures purely for academic reasons.Derek was not an academic. He was a dangerous well-known mercenary, a fierce fighter, and a skilled thief. But for good reasons. He was also a treasure hunter, seeking the fortune that had been taken from his ancestors.Their first encounter involved pointing guns at one another. As first meetings went, at least that was memorable.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> (Or ‘The Mummy’ AU nobody asked for.)
> 
> This story was originally meant to be written for the Sterek Big Bang 2016, as in that long ago. I was cleaning out my files when I found this first chapter already completed.
> 
> A warning before anybody reads the story: This has been marked 'Completed' for the sake of me not wanting to promise people anything and because I am personally sick of disappointing even myself whenever I promise I am going to write something and not go through with it. But I wanted to post this and release it to the nether in case people enjoy it regardless. 
> 
> For honesty's sake, I saw maybe 1/3 of a second chapter (which I really, really don't even remember writing) and a completed treatment for the story, but I don't know if I'll get to it. So a warning for this being open-ended. Feel free to hit the Subscribe button though just in case a next chapter gets posted.
> 
>  **UPDATE (2019-06-17):** This was initially a one-shot, but thanks to a bout of inspiration, I'll be seeing this story through. Hope you guys enjoy the adventure.
> 
>  **UPDATE (2019-08-26):** Fyi, this story is updated once every two-three weeks. Thank you.

Cairo.

Fascinating, mysterious, _sweltering hot_ Cairo.

Stiles wiped at his sweaty brow with the back of his hand, but kept on with his work with a happy skip in his step. He could hear Scott huffing and puffing rather angrily from where he was cleaning one of the sarcophagi, Allison softly humming to herself, and Lydia talking to someone on the phone.

Stiles carefully gathered the old scrolls in his arms and then made his way to the Archives section. He passed by an open window and smiled at the sight of the wonderful city, teeming with life.

“When are they going to get the A/C fixed?” Scott whined, his voice carrying throughout the museum.

“The repairman is coming tomorrow, honey,” Allison called out. “There are sodas in the fridge if you want to cool down a little.”

“Or you can join Jackson back at the hotel,” Lydia called out, sounding put out by Scott’s whining.

Scott muttered something under his breath and Stiles bit back a laugh. His best friend got testy when he felt too hot, but he would never join Jackson in anything, especially if it was just the two of them.

Stiles continued on to the Archives, always impressed with the towering bookshelves containing more than a thousand years of history and literature. He headed towards the scrolls section, located the proper shelves and slowly climbed up the tall ladder to the top rows, gingerly balancing everything in his arms.

To be honest, he and Lydia were the only ones who were supposed to be here anyway. Stiles was an Anthropology major and Lydia was an International Relations major with the both of them minoring in World History. Two months prior, they became eligible to join the head of the Archeology department, Egyptologist Professor Evelyn Carnahan, on her month-long excursion to Cairo. Stiles needed this because if he did well, Professor Evy would take him under her wing for his Masters in Ancient Tanti, and possibly even recommend him to join Professor Donald Macbeth on his expedition to Nairobi next year. Lydia, on the other hand, wanted this because it would look impressive on her record and also because the Latin-savvy woman had some weird obsession with learning ancient languages.

Their friends, Scott, Allison, and Jackson, came only because of them. Scott and Allison didn’t want to spend summer without their respective best friends and Jackson, secretly missing Lydia, was immensely bored and immensely rich enough to take them both along.

It was only the start of their second week there and while Stiles, Lydia, and Allison were enjoying themselves, Scott and Jackson were kind of not. Stiles wondered how they’d fare the rest of the weeks ahead.

Stiles looked around the Archives section. He had managed to put everything in their proper places.

“Now how did you get up here?” he muttered, grabbing a wayward scroll. “Kare-la Teseyan. Don’t think I’ve read this. Better take you to the K section.”

Carefully, so as not to lose his balance, he made his way back down. He then took a moment to check his pockets first. He had a habit of stuffing paper, papyrus, photos, coins, and other knick-knacks in there by accident. It wouldn’t do to accidentally take home any important documents.

Cairo had a large collection on the writings and artifacts of Ancient Tanti. However, only Professor Evy had taken an interest in actually cataloguing everything properly, which was why a lot of the materials in the museum were still a mess. It was part of the reason why she needed interns to come with her in the first place.

Stiles wasn't put out by that. He liked looking at all the stuff. It was just incredibly annoying when the various people that walked in messed with their system.

“Stiles!”

“Coming, Professor!”

Stiles tucked the scroll under his arm for the moment and ran out of Archives at Professor Evy’s voice.

Professor Evelyn or Evy was a pretty woman, tall, dark hair always in a bun, and a kind smile. Her husband, Rick, was a famous adventurer.

She waved at Stiles and motioned for him to come forward quickly. Lydia was already with her, while Scott and Allison had made themselves scarce. Professor Evy didn’t mind their friends coming along and helping out –which was actually a huge boon for her since the university didn’t have to worry about paying for their expenses and accommodations – but she still took care not to involve them in actual expedition-related matters.

“Professor Evy! How was your trip to the tombs?” Stiles asked excitedly.

“It was fantastic,” Professor Evy said, beaming. “I’ll be able to bring the both of you to the dig site soon enough after I get the all-clear. It's still a mess over there, you see? Oh, and if Professor Duke approves, I think we can even bring your friends along.”

“That would be so cool.” Stiles grinned. He momentarily remembered the scroll tucked into his arm and hid it behind him. He had to remember to return that. Professor Evy hated messes.

“But now, I have something for the both of you,” she said, grabbing her knapsack. She handed Lydia a folder and handed the bag to Stiles. “I know you can read and write in ancient Tantian, not to mention you have experience deciphering their codex, so here I have some scrolls that Professor Duke approved for archiving and also some photos of the new marks they found at the dig site. They’re still working on transporting the new scrolls here, which is going to take a while, but I thought you two would like first crack at these. See what you can translate on your own before we go over them later to check your work.”

“Yes!” Lydia cheered, already opening the folder and rummaging through them. “We’ll get on these right away, Professor Evy!”

“Good. Have fun you two,” she said, laughing. “My nephew is still out mingling with locals, but in case he comes here tell him I’m back at the site. I’ll meet you all back at the hotel at six o’clock.”

Professor Evy waved over her shoulder and walked off.

“I cannot wait to get to translating this,” Lydia said, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “You can take the scrolls. I want the new photos.”

“Hey! I want them too!” Stiles whined. “You can’t just–”

Suddenly there was a dull thud in the other room, so surprising that they both dropped everything they were holding into a mess on the floor.

“Hello?” Lydia called out as they stared at the entry to the exhibit. The lights were off and they knew no one was in there.

It was quiet and eerie for all of a few seconds before they heard the sound of shuffling footsteps and an eerie creak.

“Scott? Allison? This isn’t funny,” Stiles called out, frowning. He stalked forward, cursing his squeaky sneakers and the clacking of Lydia’s heels. “Guys! Come out! We know it’s you!”

They entered the hall, staring at the rows of sarcophagi Scott was attending to earlier. It was dark and quiet and the only light in the room was coming from the yellow lamps hanging from the roof.

“Scott? Ally?” Lydia called out. There was another thud and she let out a squeak, gripping Stiles’ arm harder, her nails digging into his skin. They looked around, walking further inside the room slowly.

Stiles slowly disentangled Lydia’s hand and steeled himself, walking forward and looking around. He froze upon seeing an open sarcophagus.

“What the hell,” he muttered, stepping forward. “Why is this one ope–”

“RAAAAWWWWRRRR!!!”

Stiles fell on his butt, screaming as he scrambled away. Lydia’s scream was loud and high-pitched, grabbing Stiles’ shoulder to try and pull him back. Suddenly there was loud laughter and both of them stopped.

“What the hell!” Lydia shouted, eyes narrowing. She stomped forward and reached inside the sarcophagus.

“Ow! Lydia!” Isaac shouted as Lydia half-dragged him out by his hair. He shook her hand off and scrambled out, amusement shining in his eyes.

“Lahey, you asshole!” Stiles shouted, one hand on his chest as he took a breath and slowly got to his feet.

Isaac grinned, rocking on his heels. “Not my fault you two are scaredy-cats.”

“Have you no respect for the dead?” Lydia shook her fist at him. “I have half a mind to castrate you with my nails, Isaac Lahey.”

Isaac shrugged, not the least bit threatened. “No, thank you. I quite like my body parts where they are.”

“What are you doing here, man?” Stiles asked, glaring at him. “Other than to make trouble that is? Your aunt’s going to kill you!”

“Auntie's fine. More importantly, I have something for you both.” Isaac grinned as he grabbed his backpack from inside the sarcophagus.

“Let me guess, another worthless trinket?” Lydia rolled her eyes. “Isaac, I am not going to get myself in trouble for you.” She turned on her heels and walked off.

Isaac was Professor Evy’s nephew thrice or four times-removed. She was very close to Isaac’s mother, so after she passed away and Isaac’s father drank himself into an early grave, she became his guardian. Isaac adored his Aunt, but he didn’t want to be an archaeologist like her. He just liked to travel... and make trouble, with his notorious pick-pocketing tendencies.

“What is it this time?” Stiles sighed. While he didn’t want to get in trouble, he had to admit that Isaac found (stole, really) the most interesting things. “I thought you were out in the city.”

“I was,” Isaac pulled out a wrapped package from his bag, “until I found this.”

Stiles cast a glance at what he was holding. “Found? Really?”

At Isaac’s sheepish look, Stiles hit him right at the back of his head.

“Isaac!” he hissed. “Stop stealing from people!”

Isaac shoved the package into Stiles’ hands instead. “Whatever. Just look at it and tell me what it’s worth.”

Stiles was still frowning, but curiosity won out. He set the package on top of a nearby table and untied the strings. He peeled back the cloth covers, Isaac hovering over his shoulder.

On the table was a medallion. It was the size of Stiles' fist and about an inch thick with a hole at the top where a frayed rope was looped through. One face was gold in color and the other was black, though the colors had dulled through time with dust, dirt and scratches across the faces. It made it hard to read some of the symbols carved on the faces and sides.

Stiles stroked a finger across the top, his blunt nails scratching lightly against the face of the medallion.

“Where did you get this?” Stiles asked. He turned it around and sideways, examining all faces and sides. “Or better yet, who did you steal this from?”

Isaac grinned. “I found something, didn’t I?” At Stiles’ glare, he sighed and said, “I was at the market earlier, looking around, when I saw two men and a woman on horses. They looked really mysterious and shifty-eyed, so I followed them. The woman kept checking that she had that in her pack so I thought it might be something important or valuable. I’m right, aren’t I?”

“Isaac, you can’t just go stealing people’s stuff!” Stiles chastised, swatting him on the head again. “What if you got caught? What if they hurt you? What if this is some heirloom that’s really important or sentimental to the–”

“They were mercenaries!” Isaac blurted out. “I saw that three-spiral tattoo on one of their neck! It was pretty hard to see because you had to be looking at the guy just right, but he stretched his neck once and I saw it. And you know how sharp my eyes are.”

“Three-spiral tattoo?” Stiles asked. He wasn’t as familiar as Isaac was with the local culture, but he was sure he’d heard of that somewhere.

“Probably the most infamous mercenary group in Cairo. So no, those guys definitely weren’t innocent people,” Isaac said. “They were criminals and I might have stolen back something they stole in the first place. You’re welcome.”

Stiles turned the medallion this way and that as he walked down the hall, already mumbling to himself as he tried to translate the symbols on the edges, Isaac on his heels.

“Lyds, look at this,” Stiles said as he approached her on one of the long tables. Lydia already had her laptop booted up and was sorting through the photos from Professor Evy. The bag of scrolls on the other long table by Stiles’ laptop.

Lydia held a hand up to stop them. “No. I am not going to get myself involved in one of Isaac’s schemes. Never. Go suck a cactus. Or better yet, go fuck a cac–”

“You’re going to want to see this, babe,” Stiles cut in. “Guess who has a relic belonging to Tielana the First.”

Lydia dropped all the photos in her hands, eyes wide.

Isaac flashed Stiles a grin, obviously counting that as a win.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

That night, Scott, Allison, Jackson, and Isaac sat around the lounge of their expensive hotel suite – all expenses paid courtesy of Jackson – and watched as Stiles and Lydia fluttered about on the large whiteboard on wheels that Jackson managed to get from the hotel staff. Held up with magnets were writings, pictures, maps and all manners of confusing things, while the precious golden medallion sat innocently on the coffee table in the middle of the room.

“I don’t get it,” Scott said, even though Stiles and Lydia were not talking to them.

“Did you guys find gold or something?” Jackson said from where he was reclining on the loveseat sipping a glass of wine.

“I still think we should tell Professor Evy about this,” Allison pressed for the nth time, glaring at Isaac.

Isaac rounded on her. “But I was good! I found something valuable!”

“You mean you _stole_ something valuable.”

“ _Misappropriated_ from mercenary, slash evil bad guys, slash criminals, slash looters.”

“You’re just as bad as they are then,” Allison countered.

Lydia clapped her hands for attention, interrupting the impending argument. “Frankly, I don’t care if Isaac stole it. What’s important is that I have my hands on it.”

“You mean _we_ ,” both Stiles and Isaac said. Lydia waved her hand in dismissal at that.

“I don’t get what’s the deal about this medallion, anyway,” Jackson said, plucking the object in question from the table. He watched as it spun around slowly. “It just looks like a regular medal, albeit in gold and black, and not even real gold at that.”

Stiles pointed a finger. “That, my dear Jackie,” he leaned back when Jackson tried to swipe at his face, “is one of the rare and few artifacts personally owned by the greatest queen in Tantian history, Queen Tielana the First. You can see her seal on it on the dark side, the wolf.”

“A Queen who carries the mark of a wolf seems like my kind of woman.” Allison snatched the medallion from Jackson.

Scott raised a hand in the air. His face was scrunched up in that way Stiles knew that he was thinking hard. “But I thought Stiles mentioned that Queen Tielana’s personal stuff was, like, super few and super hard to find.”

Stiles beamed at him and Scott grinned back. Scott’s interests lied far from ancient culture, but he was always supportive. “That’s true. Even literature supported the fact that she wasn’t a very materialistic woman. The very few personal items she had her seal on are either at the museum or still buried in the depths of the desert.”

“What’s her story?” Jackson asked, finally interested.

“Queen Tielana’s rule was considered the Golden Age of Tantian culture,” Lydia said. “And we’re talking piles and piles of gold here, supported by probably the most valuable and influential industry of trade, agriculture, and business the world has seen at the time. She basically rebuilt the kingdom from the ground up after the reign of her infinitely less impressive predecessors, not to mention waged war and conquered more kingdoms than any ruler of her generation. And she was only twenty-three at the time and not even of noble birth.”

“What happened to her then?” Allison asked.

“She was assassinated,” Isaac said gleefully. “Isn’t that morbid?” Allison kicked him in the shin for that, making Scott snort in laughter.

“Queen Tielana wasn’t actually a particularly nice woman. She was actually quite... well, for the lack of a better term, bloodthirsty,” Stiles said. “Before she became Queen, she was a soldier in the military, even lied about her age to get in. She became general after challenging her then-superior Arkim-sath to a fist fight. She won. Some literature even said she ripped his throat out with her teeth. She also favored arena fights and criminals were either thrown into the ring or she’d kill them herself with her claws.”

“Claws?” Scott squeaked.

“It’s unsurprising because she had quite a fondness for wolves,” Lydia said. “Many scriptures stated that she had an army of wolves at her disposal and even kept wolves as pets. An archeologist from the University of Oxford even dug up pieces of ancient armor that were fashioned into the likeness of wolves complete with steel claws and fangs. There was also a piece of text that talked about her _‘in wolf form’_ and drawings that depicted her with claws and fangs.”

“Plus, Queen Tielana loved gold and some academicians, even Aunt Evy, said she most likely had her own wolf armor,” Isaac shared excitedly. “Can you imagine that? Golden wolf armor?”

“Still, for all her ruthlessness, such was her influence that her death was mourned across the country,” Lydia shrugged. “And despite future rulers trying to step up, it all just continued spiraling until a century later during the untimely decline of their entire culture.”

“Who killed her?” Allison asked.

“Nobody knows,” Stiles said. “There are a lot of conflicting literatures about it. Some say her right-hand man, Desabi-Hath, killed her. Some say it was the work of usurpers disloyal to the crown. A few stuff kept talking about a demon Kat, that’s K-a-t, and some other mystic voodoo. Due to lack of proof and missing documents, most scholars just logically pin it down to Desabi-Hath, something I totally disagree with. I wrote a paper on that, because honestly, assuming that the right-hand man did it is just lazy research.”

Allison played around with the medallion as she talked. “Sounds like one of your regular ancient mysteries though, but I really can’t get over her obsession with wolves. It’s kinda scary, but definitely impressive.”

“It's pretty cool though.” Scott snapped his fingers. “Oh, hey. Is that why Tanti tombs have moons on them? Like the one in the museum?”

“Yup. There’s proof that they worship the moon and pay homage to a Mother Goddess. Add that to the obsession with wolves, and it’s why some scholars called them a cult. How disrespectful if you ask me. They just couldn’t handle a powerful woman.” Stiles scoffed.

Suddenly, there was ringing and Isaac pulled out his phone.

“That’s Auntie. It’s almost six,” he said.

“Okay. Stiles and I are going to see what else we can find out about the medallion,” Lydia said. “Ally, you make sure Jackson or Scott don’t blab or say anything about it.”

“Hey, Lydia! / Oh come on, babe!” The two in question protested.

Allison nodded. “Sure thing.”

Stiles covered the white board with a spare blanket and then wrapped the medallion securely before putting it in his bag. “Let’s continue this later, guys.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

The group resumed conversation the following morning, heading towards one of the local eateries. Lydia, Stiles, and Isaac got home late so they never got to talk more about the mysterious medallion.

“So? Did you find anything about it? What are you planning to do with it?” Scott asked, leaning across the table.

“We moved it in one of the safes at the museum for now, though we didn’t tell Auntie about it,” Isaac said.

“We could have told her, but seeing as you stole the thing...” Stiles flicked Isaac on the arm and gave him a chastising look.

Lydia took a delicate sip from her glass and said, “Anyway, Stiles and I aren’t experts, but we managed to date it to several thousand years old, completely within the timeframe of Queen Tielana’s rule.” She tapped her nails against the table. “If we’re lucky, it might even have something to do with...”

“With what?” Allison asked.

“Treasure? Gold? Jewels? Mummies?” Isaac asked.

Stiles caught Lydia’s eye. He knew they both had a hunch regarding the medallion. They weren’t experts, but they knew that aside from her ruthlessness, Queen Tielana was also incredibly intelligent and loved puzzles. An artifact like that, wearable, easy to carry and easy to hide, not to mention the odd carvings on it, meant that there was more to this than meets the eye.

Stiles nodded to her surreptitiously.

“...something to do with Oran Juhor.”

Isaac jerked, almost sending his glass of water clear across the table. “Are you serious?” he hissed.

“What’s Oran Juhor?” Jackson asked loudly. “And it better have something to do with money.”

There was a snort from somewhere behind them and everyone stiffened. Stiles cast everyone on the table a silencing look as they all turned.

“Excuse me?” Lydia asked, nose scrunching up. “But I believe you aren’t part of this conversation.”

The man grinned and sauntered over to them. He grabbed a nearby chair and pulled it to their table, placing himself between Allison and Isaac. Allison subtly scooted closer to Scott, the latter placing an arm around her protectively.

The newcomer was of average height, with dark brown hair and a pale complexion, dressed in a dark green polo shirt, brown pants and boots. He looked like a regular tourist, a random face you’d see in a crowd and forget almost immediately.

Stiles liked to think he had pretty good instincts – he did have a Sheriff for a father – so he was immediately on guard when his gut warned him to be suspicious of the man.

“The name’s Matt Daehler,” he said, nodding to them all. “I’m a bit of a… fan of Tantian culture, you could say. I couldn’t help overhearing your little posse talking about Oran Juhor, and sorry to burst your bubble, but Oran Juhor is a myth.”

“No, it’s not!” Stiles exclaimed, glaring. “There is a number of written literature pertaining to its authenticity.”

“Just because it's written doesn't mean it's real. It could just as easily be a children's tale.” Matt pointed out, that creepy grin still on his face, as if he was trying for nonchalance and failing. “Oran Juhor, the Tantian City of Rebirth and one of the most powerful cities in ancient history, just suddenly and mysteriously disappeared after the death of Queen Tielana the First? Impossible.”

Stiles glared at him and he could see Scott doing it too in a show of solidarity. Lydia rolled her eyes and whispered something to Jackson under her breath.

Matt snorted. “Besides, if it was real, don’t you think archaeologists from the world over would have found it by now? Even just a shred of evidence? It all sounds a bit too much like a fairy tale to me.”

“Telling tales on the tourists again, eh, Matt?”

They were all startled and turned to the woman seated at the bar. She was in a brown button-up shirt, pants tucked into her knee-high boots, and had blonde hair and striking ruby-red lips. Stiles felt Isaac stiffen beside him. She was leaning back on the bar, a challenging look aimed at Matt.

Matt seemed to know her and he scowled at her threateningly. “Many have wasted their lives looking for that place, Erica. No one has ever found it and most never returned. Excuse me for wanting to spare the newcomers the same fate.”

Erica scoffed, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “You’re just trying to scare them off,” she said. “I guess that would mean less competition for you, eh?”

“Competition? For me?” Matt leered. “The more the merrier, especially since Daron has been looking for Oran Juhor for years with nothing to show for it. Isn’t that right, Erica?"

_Daron?_

A light bulb went on in Stiles’ head. He looked to Isaac, who already looked peaky and panicky.

With a small smile on her cherry lips, Erica sauntered towards them and the next thing they knew, she had whipped out a knife and had stuck it into the wooden table, scant centimeters away from Matt’s bare forearm. Everyone at the table gasped in surprise, with shouts of shock coming from the nearby patrons and servers. Stiles noticed one scrambling out of the room, no doubt to call security.

Matt yelped and tried to scramble back, almost tipping backwards on his chair, but Erica grabbed it, making him tip towards her instead.

“Listen, Matthew,” Erica said, voice low and threatening. “You know I don’t exactly have the best handle on my temper. Try badmouthing us again and I swear I’ll knock all your teeth out until you’re left gumming your meals. And even without the others to back me up, just remember that I’ve been in jail and made men twice your size cry like a little girl.”

Erica pushed him back, letting the chair tip over. Matt scrambled up on obviously shaky knees and glared at her before running off.

“Bitch!” he shouted before exiting.

Erica scoffed and grabbed her knife, twirling it expertly between her fingers. She turned to them, heedless of the crowd of shocked and panicking onlookers.

“Wow,” Scott whispered. “That was so cool.”

Erica looked at him incredulously. So did everybody else.

Scott huffed. “What? It was.”

“Matt Daehler is a nosey, greasy, disturbing man. Nobody likes him,” Erica said. “And now…” She pointed her knife at Isaac, who squeaked and flung his arms around Stiles. “As for you, I want my trinket back.”

“She was the one you stole it from?” Lydia hissed at the curly-haired blond. “A Daron mercenary?”

“I want my medallion back, goldilocks,” Erica said, smirking. She didn’t seem the least bit bothered by the sound of sirens coming closer and closer. “And if you won’t give it to me. I’m afraid I’ll have to take it back.” She smirked. “Tell your aunt sorry not sorry for ruining her precious scrolls.”

With that said, Erica darted off, vaulting neatly over the bar and heading towards the back of the restaurant. She disappeared out back just as the group heard the screech of car tires from outside.

There was silence for a few precious seconds.

Allison gulped. “When she said scrolls…”

Isaac cursed. “The museum!”

They all ran out of the building.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

By the time they got back to the museum, it was too late. The entire waiting area was ransacked – chairs and tables on their sides, the couch slashed open, cabinets and drawers thrown open, everything on the desks swept to the ground. The security guards and the secretary were missing and god knows where they were or what those mercenaries did to them.

There was a crash somewhere inside and Isaac was immediately in motion.

“The artifacts!” Isaac darted forward, running towards the back where the most important treasures were kept in a locked wing of the museum.

“Lydia, Allison, call the cops and Professor Evy,” Stiles shouted before running off with Scott and Jackson to follow Isaac. “Dammit! We should have waited for the police back at the restaurant. Why didn’t we–”

He heard Jackson’s shout. “SCOTT, WATCH OUT!”

The next thing Stiles knew, a big, burly, dark-skinned man appeared out of nowhere and grabbed Scott in a chokehold before they could enter the hall.

“Scott!” Stiles shouted, his hand almost flying to his right hip.

There was the sound of a rifle being loaded.

Isaac appeared from around the corner, hands in the air. Behind him was Erica, bearing a rifle with the barrel pressed right against the male’s lower back. Isaac was shaking, obviously nervous. Jackson and Stiles glanced at one another, both of them cursing internally.

“Stiles.”

The two looked back to see Allison and Lydia headed their way, followed by a woman. She was petite, with long dark hair, and a large smile. She had a katana strapped to her back. She had a rifle similar to Erica, raised and ready to fire.

Stiles cursed.

Allison caught sight of Scott, fear crossing her face for a moment before she managed to mask it. Her right hand flinched and Stiles knew she was itching to pull out her handgun from the thigh holster hidden under her skirt.

“If you hurt him…” she warned the burly man.

“I don’t think so, honey.” Erica scoffed. “He’ll snap loverboy’s neck before you could blink, so don’t make any sudden moves.” She smirked at Allison. “And I can add goldilocks here to the obituary.”

Stiles knew Erica was right. He knew that hold around Scott’s neck from the years of training his Sheriff father had put him through. It might not kill Scott, but it could still deal serious damage. Allison knew that too and she looked conflicted and heartbroken as she kept to herself.

Stiles cursed internally, surveying the scene. Erica prodded Isaac forward with her rifle until he was kneeling on the floor, her rifle now pointed at the back of his head. Jackson kept close to the wall, eyeing Lydia and Allison who were glaring to kill at the woman with the katana. The big guy loosened his hold on Scott’s neck and was now holding his hands behind his back, heedless of his captive coughing his lungs out.

Stiles still had his Sig Sauer hidden under his jacket by his right hip and he knew Allison still had her handgun under her skirt, but he knew it would be stupid to try to take them on.

The woman with the katana smiled, turning to Stiles. “Now, we don’t want any trouble.”

“Oh, we do,” Erica corrected.

“Ok, maybe we do,” she amended with a laugh. “It’s much better you guys do what we say, so we can avoid splattering brain matter all over the wall and ourselves.”

“Who are you working for?” Lydia asked, narrow-eyed and suspicious.

“You don’t need to know,” katana-girl said, smiling far too pleasantly than was appropriate given the situation at hand. “All we want is the medallion. We know it’s here, so cough it up before we get a bit trigger-happy, and it’ll be a shame to ruin all these precious artifacts.”

Stiles looked around, fear prickling at the back of his neck. They locked up the medallion in a safe that only Isaac and Professor Evy knew the combination to. He was sure as hell none of them were going to open it for these guys, but if they played their cards right and say they don’t know the combination, maybe they could–

“I’m the only one who knows the combination,” Isaac spat out, glaring up at Erica through his curls. “And I’m not saying shit.”

–dammit, Isaac.

Erica looked as if she was seconds away from blasting Isaac’s face to smithereens.

“Erica, chill.”

The angry blonde backed off at the last minute.

Another man walked in, carting a laptop under one arm. He was tall, tanned, and had a dimpled smile, not to mention a three spiral tattoo on his neck. He looked around and smiled, like the scene didn’t even faze him.

“Don’t shoot the man,” the male said. “We already have the medallion anyway.”

 “WHAT?!” More than a few voices shouted; Stiles and his friends in horror and outrage, and Erica and her team in delight and victory.

The tan man shrugged, motioning to the computer under his arm. “One of the downsides of having safes with electronic locks; it’s why I prefer the old safe dials. Much more challenging.”

“You’re the best, Danny,” katana-girl cheered.

Danny smirked, looking high and mighty.

“Fuck you!” Isaac hissed.

“Give back that medallion! It doesn’t belong to you!” Lydia shouted, stomping a foot in anger.

Danny threw them an offended look. “As opposed to _you_ stealing it from _us_?”

“Lydia,” Stiles cried out sternly.

Lydia shrugged off Jackson’s attempts to get her to stay back and Stiles’ look of warning. “That is an ancient artifact that is meant to be placed in the hands of experts and archeologists! Not in the hands of mercenaries who will either break it or sell it without knowing just how priceless it is!”

Danny looked pissed off. His voice was dangerously low as he talked. “You’ll find that we are such experts. And that, no, we’re not planning on selling it.”

“Not to mention **_I_** am the one who owns this medallion.”

It was like all in the air in the room was sucked out and everyone in the room tensed, even Erica, Danny, and their team.

A man walked in, tall, definitely older, with dark hair, a stubbled jaw, and thick muscles all over; not to mention armed to the teeth with the rifle strapped to his back, the shoulder holsters, and one more around a thigh. However, all that paled to the golden sheen of the medallion hanging from his neck.

Isaac jerked, only to hear Erica snarl in warning.

“Don’t hurt him!” Stiles growled.

“Erica.”

Erica immediately stopped. “Sorry, boss.” She glared at Isaac and backed off, even pointing her rifle a little lower until it was pointing at Isaac’s leg.

“This is a mess.” The tall, burly man with dark skin spoke for the first time. “This is a mess, and I’m not cleaning up any of it.” His face remained blank, but he sounded exasperated.

Their boss didn’t seem the least bit perturbed by that. He addressed his team. “Get them all out of the way.”

 “Uh, heads up, boss,” Danny interrupted. He seemed the least cowed by their boss’s intimidating presence. “Remember that the room to the Second’s sarcophagus is under an electronic and a biometrics lock. I’m the best there is, but even I can’t magic a fingerprint in the amount of time we have left.”

He glanced at Isaac. “Considering Mr. Isaac Lahey over here is a relative of Professor Carnahan’s and he said ‘our safe’…”

Their boss nodded. “Bring him, but he doesn’t have to be conscious to give us a fingerprint.”

Isaac’s eyes widened and before he even started struggling, Erica had already grabbed him by the arm.

“No! / Leave him alone!”

Danny had whipped a pistol from his belt, pointing it at Lydia and Allison.

“What are you doing? Don’t touch him!” Stiles said, surging forward.

Reflex, and probably sheer dumb luck, saved Stiles when he ducked backwards instinctively, just barely avoiding the katana that came flying at him. He flattened himself against the wall and found himself at the pointy end of the weapon.

“Stiles! / Stilinski, you idiot! Get back!” His friends, plus Jackson, shouted.

“...Stilinski?” The boss-man looked at him thoughtfully.

“Not so fast,” the dark-haired woman said, confident as she wielded the sword. “One more step, and you’ll lose a hand.” She smirked. “But you seem skittish, so you might end up losing more than that.”

“Stop it!” Isaac shouted. “Stop it! Don’t hurt them! I’ll–” He looked pained. “I’ll open the goddamn room.”

“Good man,” Danny smirked.

“I want to see.”

Everyone turned to Lydia. She had a defiant look about her, no fear or apprehension. Stiles could see a familiar, calculating look in her eyes that said she found something incredibly interesting.

“I want to see whatever it is you want to do with the sarcophagus.”

“Want to do with... what the hell are you talking about, Lydia?” Isaac asked.

Lydia took a step towards Daron’s leader, unafraid of the gun Danny pointed her way. “You said the medallion was _yours_. Now, I don’t really care whether or not it’s true or you’re just delusional treasure hunters. I only want to know three things: how and where you found that medallion and what you’re planning to do with it.”

“I’m not in the habit of sharing,” boss-man said.

“Oh, I know,” Lydia said, arms crossed over her chest. “I know you won’t tell me about that medallion so fine, keep that secret. But I want to know what you’re going to do with it and the… ‘Second’s sarcophagus,’ as you called it.”

There was silence; everyone seemed appalled that Lydia would actually ask that.

The boss shrugged. “Why not? Bring them.”

“WHAT?! SERIOUSLY?!” Erica asked, outraged.

“They don’t even have a bargaining chip to use, boss,” katana-girl said.

“I know, but bring Lahey, the redhead, and Stilinski so we can be done with this. Lock up the rest.” Their boss turned on his heels. “Those two are Professor Carnahan’s assistants. I’m sure they’re as interested as we are in this. Why not let them see it? It could be the last thing they see anyway,” he warned.

Even that made Lydia gulp.

Danny was first to acquiesce. “Surprisingly generous, but okay, I’ll bite.” He turned to his team. “You heard the boss.”

It took a lot of gun-waving and wrangling before Daron managed to get everybody up. Allison, Scott and Jackson were locked up in a small janitor’s closet, with the katana-girl and Erica jamming the knob with a chair and tying it to a heavy pillar with a strong rope. Isaac, Stiles and Lydia were pushed and shoved and had guns (and katana) pointed at them.

The door to the museum wing containing the most valuable Tantian artifacts, including the sarcophagi, was under an electronic and a biometrics locks. Only the museum director; a few professors, including Professor Carnahan; and Isaac were allowed to go in – though to be honest Isaac only received authorization during this trip, as proxy for whenever his aunt was out on site and Lydia and Stiles needed to see, study, and clean the artifacts.

Isaac hesitated, but he had no choice but to press his palm against the biometrics lock and key in a code. The double doors opened with a hiss of the mechanical locks and they all marched down the hall.

The wing, called the Sher-hina Wing, – which was ironically enough the Tantian word for ‘safety’ – was the smallest in the entire museum, owing to the fact that archaeologists had only found a handful of legitimate Tantian artifacts. The crowning jewel of the exhibit though was the sarcophagus that Professor Evy herself unearthed five years ago during a dig right here in Cairo. It was part of why Cairo was considered the center of all Tantian culture, not just because it was close to where the entire civilization once thrived.

The sarcophagus always took Stiles’ breath away whenever he saw it. It was rectangular in shape with a smooth, slightly domed lid, and its sides were extensively embellished with carvings, inlaid gold, and precious stones. Unlike most sarcophagus that had the image of the person carved on it, this one was painted with the visage of a wolf that paired well with the mummy inside that was garbed with a wolf’s headpiece and armor. It matched the image of a wolf running through the forest that was carved all along the sides of the sarcophagus. According to educated guess, this woman was more than just one of Queen Tielana’s subjects. She was most likely a high-ranking member of the Queen’s wolf army.

The sarcophagus was in the center of the room on a lighted pedestal and just looking at it made Stiles’ skin break out into goosebumps.

Erica and the large man immediately had Stiles and the others line up along the wall, guns pointed their way. Katana-girl stood guard against the door, sword out and battle-ready. Danny sat down on the sarcophagus platform, typing on his laptop. Daron’s leader immediately walked up to the sarcophagus, kneeling in front of it and stroking a hand across the carvings.

“So? What now?” Lydia asked, asking much too haughtily for someone who was technically a prisoner.

“Just because we brought you doesn’t mean we’re telling you everything,” katana-girl scoffed.

Daron’s leader muttered something under his breath as he stroked the carvings with his fingers. Stiles watched him closely. The man looked reverent as he inspected the stone in front of him. He removed the medallion from around his neck and held it up against the stone side.

It was like a switch was flipped on in Stiles’ head as he remembered their encounter with Erica earlier at the restaurant.

“Oran Juhor,” he said. “That’s what you’re looking for, right? That’s what the medallion is for.”

Lydia was immediately on board. “It’s a clue? An artifact that came from the City itself?”

“A key,” Daron’s leader said, “to the Tantian City of Rebirth.”

There was a soft sound, like a piece of stone sliding into place. They all gasped as they watched the man slide the medallion into place inside a section of the carvings.

It fit perfectly.

“That’s impossible,” Stiles breathed. He himself had inspected that sarcophagus more times than he could count on all of his fingers, toes and limbs, and he had never thought that gap would serve a purpose. Until now.

The image now showed an image of a black wolf running through the forest... towards a golden moon.

“Jackpot?” Erica asked.

Daron’s leader slowly turned the medallion a few times, but nothing happened.

“Other side then,” Katana-girl said.

Danny stopped typing on his laptop. “It’s as we expected then…” He trailed off, biting his thumbnail in thought.

Stiles glanced at Lydia. Surprisingly, none of them seemed surprised that whatever their leader did was wrong.

Daron’s leader slowly pulled the medallion out and turned it over to the dark side. When he slid it in place, Stiles felt like he was looking at a whole different picture.

There was the black wolf running through the forest, but this time towards a dark full moon. It made something inside Stiles shiver.

The man turned the medallion around one more time, and the resounding _click_ sounded so loud in the quiet room.

From his spot against the wall, Stiles had the perfect vantage point to see as Daron’s leader grinned excitedly. Using the knotted rope, he pulled on the medallion and, with a crack of the rock, a slim, circular section of the wall gave way, revealing a shelf, skillfully and deviously hidden inside the sarcophagus.

“Oh my god,” Lydia gasped.

 “Ho. Ly. Shit.” Isaac uttered in disbelief.

They all watched as Daron’s leader reached into the small shelf and pulled out a piece of parchment.

“OH MY GOD!” Lydia stepped forward, only to get pulled back by Stiles when Erica raised a gun at her. She didn’t even seem to notice, too busy gaping at the paper in Daron’s hands. “How the hell– Are you– Did you– Is it–”

Stiles, on the other hand, wasn’t feeling quite as elated. He was excited as hell, but their window of opportunity to escape was getting smaller and smaller. Beside him, Isaac was tense and they both glanced at one another, obviously thinking of a plan of escape.

Stiles put his hands in his pockets, subtly trying to shift through the mess for his phone. Just his luck that it was in the backpack he left in the car.

“Dammit,” he muttered to himself, the beginnings of an idea in his head as he wrapped his fingers in the contents of his pocket. This wasn’t going to be his best plan.

“Yes, boss!” Danny cheered, tucking away his laptop in a hurry. “We finally have it!”

Daron’s leader straightened, an excited grin on his face.

All the mercenaries in the room had their guards down, relaxed and excited at their victory.

Stiles glanced at Isaac. _I have a plan._

Isaac shook his head at him, disbelieving and wary.

Before anybody could do or say something, Stiles darted forward. He dived under the boss-man’s arm, grabbing the parchment from his fingers, and vaulting neatly over the sarcophagus. Stiles heard shouts of shock and, more importantly, the metallic sound of more than a few guns being cocked to shoot.

Stiles glanced at the paper in his hands for a few precious moments before he stood up from the cover of the sarcophagus, parchment in one hand and one of the hotel’s complimentary lighters in the other. He had been playing with it last night and thought of bringing it home to his Dad as a gift. He had forgotten that he put in his pants pocket.

The dark-skinned, burly man had a rifle pointed right at Stiles. Erica was already pressing her gun against Isaac’s chest. The woman with the katana had unsheathed her sword and held it against Lydia. Danny also had a handgun of his own pointed right at Stiles.

“Stiles!” Isaac and Lydia shouted in warning.

“Give. That. Back.” the woman with the katana snarled.

“One wrong move and this map goes up in flames,” Stiles said. He thanked the lord his voice didn’t squeak and came out more confident than he actually felt.

“Try me, you fucker!” Erica growled. Isaac winced as the barrel pressed harder against his chest.

Daron’s leader remained quiet, didn’t even point a gun at Stiles.

“Fine.” Stiles set the corner of the map on fire. He shook it off, stopping the flames, but now about one-fourth of the map was gone.

“Stiles Stilinski, that is a valuable ancient artifact!” Lydia shrieked, looking more livid than she should be considering the circumstances, and definitely looking more livid than Daron.

“That would be foolish,” their leader said, a weird, low growl to his voice. The man’s eyes flashed in anger, almost red in its intensity.

Stiles almost dropped the map, but he persevered. No one had ever told Stiles he wasn’t risky, or idiotic.

He burned the map until there was only half of it left. He noticed the leader’s eyes narrow and hands curl into fists.

“HOLY SHIT!” Erica shouted, face giving way to panic. “What the hell is wrong with you?!”

“Oh god,” the woman with the katana whispered. “He actually burned it.”

“Not a smart move,” Danny said, angry.

Stiles held the lighter and map threateningly. “I have photographic memory. If you want to get to Oran Juhor,” he flicked the lighter to life once again and burned the rest of the parchment, “Then you’ll have to take me with you.”

“Stiles!” His friends gasped.

Lydia hissed. “That is the stupidest thing you have ever done in your life, Stilinski!”

“And what’s to stop us from forcing it out of you?” Erica spat out. She pressed her rifle harder against Isaac’s chest, making him whimper.

Stiles was firm, glaring at their leader head-on. “Because you can shoot us, kidnap us, or worse, but there is no way you can be sure that I will give you the right directions.”

“Stiles, don’t!” Scott hissed.

Their leader raised an eyebrow, his eyes showing mixed amusement and anger. “Fine then.” He raised his chin. “Bring him.”

“You can’t be serious, boss,” the large, burly man said.

“Just him?” the woman with the katana asked.

“And the blond puppy,” the man said.

Erica smirked. She grabbed Isaac around the neck in a chokehold. Danny approached them and pulled a cloth out from his bag. Isaac immediately struggled, eyes widening in a panic.

“No! No! No!” he shouted His eyes were wild and Stiles could practically see memories of his asshole Dad flashing through his eyes.

“Don’t!” Lydia shouted, panicked. “Don’t hold him like that!”

“Leave him alone!” Stiles growled.

Danny and Erica kept on though and Danny held the cloth to Isaac’s face. Isaac fell limp in seconds.

“Isaac! No!” Stiles protested. He was running forward before he could stop himself. A strong arm grabbed him by the middle and he immediately knew who this was.

“Stiles!” Lydia shouted.

Stiles heard the scrape of metal against leather. However, Stiles was faster. He grabbed his Sig Sauer from his belt, and twirled it in his hand, jamming his thumb into the trigger to hold it backwards and pointing it behind him. He pressed the gun against the soft skin of the man’s throat just as his captor reached over and pressed the barrel of his gun to Stiles’ chin.

Stiles could feel the man’s light breathing against the side of his face, all hot breath from his cheek to his neck. Stiles cocked his head back, the man’s gun sticking to his chin. He glared at the man mere inches from his face.

“Isaac was not part of the deal,” Stiles hissed, jamming the gun harder against the side of the man’s throat.

“We didn’t strike a deal,” the man said back, voice low and dark in his ear. “And we’re not doing this on your terms.”

Before Stiles could react, Danny was in his face.

“Sweet dreams, princess,” he said, smirking. He pressed the cloth to Stiles’ face.

Stiles couldn’t help inhaling the acrid chemical, strong and cloying. Before he succumbed to unconsciousness, the last thing he heard were Lydia’s screams.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles and co are held prisoners, everybody gets off to a bad start, and threats are made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I managed to finish the second chapter, so yey for that. I didn’t actually think I’d update this, but the story flowed surprisingly easily. I also actually have a third chapter halfway done as a buffer, but for this project, I intend to finish a chapter ahead before posting anything.
> 
> So all in all, expect this to be updated somewhat sporadically. I actually have a complete outline for this story – which is rare for me – but I am not really good at writing action scenes, much less adding twists, turns and secrets, and that’s what makes this a challenge to write. It’s pretty fun though. 
> 
> Comments are loved, constructive criticisms are appreciated, and haters are not.

Stiles was knocked into consciousness by his head banging against something solid. He squeezed his eyes shut, vision swimming. He waited for the nausea to subside and tried to catalog his body to make sure everything was still there, which was made doubly difficult by the fact that he was apparently in a moving vehicle.

He was sitting up and leaning back against the wall with his hands tied behind his back. He tested the knots and frowned at how tight and firm they were. At least his feet weren’t tied together. He was still wearing clothes and a single sneaker, but he couldn’t feel his Sig Sauer in his hip holster.

Oh yeah, he pointed it at the Daron leader’s face.

There was still the slight smell of chemical in his nostrils, which was really off-putting, but he didn’t seem like he was concussed or anything, just dizzy from the rough driving and the hit on the head.

Stiles opened his eyes slowly.

The first thing he saw was an unconscious Isaac seated across from him, head lolling forward with his hands also tied behind him.

“Uh, damn,” Stiles muttered, his head hurting as the vehicle bounced around.

“Stiles?”

Stiles jerked at the familiar voice. Sitting against the door was Allison.

“Oh my god, Ally A. You are a sight for sore eyes.”

Allison smiled weakly. She seemed fine from what Stiles could see, but unlike him and Isaac, Allison was curled up with her arms and legs all tied together.

“What the hell happened?” Stiles asked as he struggled to sit straighter. He used his feet, one with a sneaker and the other only in a sock, to shuffle closer to her while being as quiet as possible, which was no mean feat with all the jostling around the vehicle was doing. “And how did you get here? Where are the others?”

“We’re in the back of one of Daron’s jeeps,” Allison said, voice low. “After you passed out, Derek decided to–”

“Who’s Derek?” Stiles asked, confused. Half his mind was thinking about how to position himself with his back to Allison so they could work on each other’s knots.

“Derek’s the name of Daron’s leader,” Allison said. “I heard you held a gun to his face. Kudos.”

“Thanks. Now at least I know exactly who the fuck to blame for all this,” Stiles muttered, trying to wiggle around and present his back and tied-up hands to Allison. “Anyway, go on.”

“Derek didn’t want to bring Lydia along, so they tried to lock her up in the closet with us,” Allison said. “Soon as they opened the door, I kind of came out swinging and ended up punching the tall, dark guy, named Boyd, and tried to stab the girl with the katana, with one of my boot knives.”

“Woah. You are badass, girl,” Stiles said, grinning.

“Thanks,” Allison said, pausing as the jeep drove over a bump and they were jostled. “Derek didn’t like that, so he decided to bring me along too, probably as additional collateral. Told the others they’d kill us if they told the police.”

“So that’s why they tied you up like this,” Stiles mused, finally managing to turn his back on her. He could feel Allison’s fingers brush his. Now they just had to figure out how to untie this. “How long have we been out?”

Allison’s fingers started tugging at Stiles’ knots. “A little over two hours, I think.”

Stiles bit back a small huff of triumph at the very slight loosening of his bonds. “Anything else you got from them?”

Allison grunted, fingers wriggling. “Erica’s the blonde and Kira’s the one with the katana. That’s all I heard so far. They’ve got two jeeps – both customized, heavy-duty ones from what I saw. It was obvious they weren’t really looking to bring prisoners along because they had to move the bags of weapons and the tech that used to be in here into the other jeep.” She paused, obviously unsettled. “Stiles, I think they’re more than just run of the mill mercenaries or looters. These kinds of ride? You know my dad was in the military, and I would know these kinds of equipment anywhere.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Stiles muttered.

“I’ve been awake all this time,” Allison said. “So far it looks like they drove out of Cairo and are headed west into the desert. They were talking in a different language, not Arabic, so I didn’t understand them. They’re probably waiting for you to tell them where to go.”

Stiles cursed, not just because Allison’s nails accidentally scratched his wrist but also because he suddenly remembered why they were in this mess.

“Sorry,” Allison muttered. “Stiles, do you really know where Oran Juhor is? I heard them saying you lit their map on fire.”

“Technically speaking, I don’t really know where it is,” Stiles said. “But if the map is right then I can get us to the next location. And yes, before you ask, I do remember the map. Thank god for photographic memory.”

The vehicle came to a stop so suddenly that he and Allison went skidding and tumbling on their sides. Stiles ended up falling over Isaac, who jerked awake.

“Huh? What happened?” Isaac asked, still groggy. “Where am I? Why am I…” He noticed his bonds and started shaking his arms, eyes wide. “Why am I tied? No! Get! It! Off!” He heaved with each breath, wriggling so violently that he kneed Stiles’ back.

“Fuck! He’s having a panic attack!” Stiles didn’t even care about keeping his voice down. “Isaac! Isaac! Listen to us!”

“Isaac, it’s us! We’re here!” Allison cried out, trying to scoot closer in her tied-up state. “You’re not alone!”

Isaac wasn’t cluing in one their voices. He was still thrashing about, accidentally hitting his friends in his hysteria. His panicked cries drifted off into desperation.

“Let me go. Please. Let me go. No. Please,” Isaac whispered.

The back door of the jeep was pulled open, but Stiles and Allison were too busy trying to attend to Isaac. He was tearing up now and his breathing became too shallow and labored.

“Fuck.” Someone muttered.

Next thing Stiles knew, he and Allison were harshly pushed aside.

“Hey!” Stiles shouted. It was Boyd. Stiles saw him pull a knife from his boot. “Don’t you dare hurt–”

But the man was already slashing Isaac’s ties quick and easy. Isaac immediately curled up into a ball. The man turned to Stiles, knife on hand. Before Stiles could feel threatened, he found his ties cut.

Stiles threw himself forward on instinct, scurrying to curl his entire body around the blonde. Stiles had panic attacks too, especially the years following his mom’s death, but he had learned to get a handle on them since his attacks were very distinctive and he could easily tell when he was about to have one. Scott had also suggested meditation, which had actually been effective. His last panic attack was a little over half a year ago.

Isaac was different. His panic attacks happened more often and were more severe, especially when exposed to certain conditions that reminded him of his extremely unpleasant experiences with his asshole of a father, such as being locked up in small spaces, tied up, blindfolded, manhandled, or all manners of other violent things.

“Isaac, buddy, it’s me. It’s Stiles,” Stiles spoke gently. He was rubbing Isaac’s arms, busy trying to get Isaac to loosen just a little and look up from burying his face in his arms. He could feel someone pulling away the rest of the ropes around them both, most likely Allison. “I know you can hear me, Isaac. And I know it’s hard, bro, but you have to listen to me and try to breathe, ok?”

Stiles felt Isaac lean against him just slightly. That was a good sign.

Stiles talked him down, slowly, gently, and using all the tricks in the book. Stiles knew Isaac was partial to being cuddled and doing breathing exercises, holding his breath between each inhale and exhale to help order his mind, so Stiles gently prodded him to it. He kept one arm around Isaac, letting the male grip his forearm like a lifeline, ignoring the bruising Stiles was sure would appear later. He just had to remember to cover it and spare Isaac the sight.

It took around half an hour for Isaac to finally loosen up. His blond hair was matted to his forehead with sweat, his hands were still shaking, and his shoulders were still tense, but he was breathing easier.

“Hey, sweetie,” Allison said softly, crawling into view. She and Stiles helped Isaac sit up against the side. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” Isaac croaked. “I’m… I…”

“It’s okay,” Allison said shushing him gently and wiping at his sweaty face. “It’s okay. Don’t worry. We’re here.”

Stiles saw the red marks from the rope around Isaac’s wrists and forearms.

“Fucking bastard,” Stiles growled, turning around and starting to crawl out the back.

“Stiles, don’t!” Allison hissed, trying to grab his ankle.

Stiles jumped out, half-stumbling on the soft sand and ignoring the heat under his socked feet. He looked around. The jeeps were parked under the shade of trees and it seemed like their captors were taking a break, whether it was because they wanted to or because they heard Isaac’s panic attack, Stiles wasn’t sure. All he knew was that as soon as his eyes zeroed in on Derek standing by the other jeep, not to mention the golden medallion hanging from his neck, Stiles literally saw red.

“YOU!” Stiles shouted, pointing at the man.

The man, Allison said his name was Derek, turned to him. He had been talking to the woman with the katana, Kira.

Stiles stomped towards him, fury and indignation coursing through him. Kira unsheathed her blade and held it against Stiles’ chest. Stiles ignored her, didn’t even register the way that katana was digging into his front as he stepped right towards Derek, leaning forward until he was inches from the man’s face.

“Prisoner or not, I am not scared of you,” Stiles hissed at him. “And if something happens to Isaac and Allison, I will find a way to kill you in your sleep.”

Derek’s eyebrow quirked in interest, just a bit, and Stiles didn’t avert his eyes.

A weak voice called out, “Stiles, don’t.”

Stiles stepped back, glaring once more at Derek before stomping off, not even bothering to look back as he heard Kira sheath her katana, whispering something to Derek.

Allison was helping a pale Isaac crawl out of the back of the trailer. Isaac was too heavy though and Allison almost stumbled. Before they could fall and Stiles could panic, Boyd appeared. He hooked an arm under Isaac and pulled him upright.

“T-thank you,” Isaac said. Stiles almost told him not to thank the guy, but Isaac was still easily spooked right now and that wouldn’t be a good idea.

Boyd didn’t respond, just let go once Isaac was steady on his feet. He hesitated at first before untying a water canteen from his belt and handing it to him.

“Oh, I…” Isaac looked hesitant.

He shoved it into Isaac’s hand, before stepping back and leaving them.

Stiles cast the man a suspicious look as he approached Isaac. “You good, Isaac?” he asked, rubbing the other male’s sweaty curls. “You feeling better?”

“Yes,” Isaac said softly, taking a drink warily. Apparently satisfied, he took some more greedy gulps before he handed one to Allison.

“Stiles,” Allison whispered before she took a sip, eyes darting over Stiles’ shoulder in warning.

Stiles nodded and turned around, seeing their captors spread in a semi-circle in front of them. He noted Boyd to their left, standing by their jeep. Derek and Kira were across from them leaning against the other vehicle. The evil blonde, Erica, and Danny were seated on an overturned tree trunk.

Derek’s heavy gaze was on Stiles, brow furrowed.

Kira stepped forward. “I’m Kira,” she said. “That’s Boyd,” she pointed to the guy who cut their bonds and gave them the canteen, “Erica,” and of course who could forget the blonde firecracker that hurt Isaac in the first place, “And that’s Danny.” The guy with the tan skin and dimples nodded.

“And this is Derek,” she said, pointing over her shoulder to their leader.

“Not so nice to meet you,” Allison said coldly.

Kira didn’t react. “Considering the circumstances, it’s obvious we got off to a bad start, but we’re not here to hurt you.”

“Bullshit.” Stiles glared at her.

He heard Erica’s growl of irritation, but Kira looked unaffected. Derek just eyed Stiles, the medallion glinting tauntingly from around his neck.

“We mean you no harm, but that doesn’t mean we’re not dangerous people,” Danny spoke up. “And to be honest, we would have had no reason to hurt you or bring you along if you hadn’t burned the map in the first place.”

Stiles almost winced but managed to hold back. “If I hadn’t ‘bargained’ for it,” he even made air quotes for his own use of words, “Would you have let us go peacefully?”

“Yes,” Kira and Danny said at the same time.

Erica snorted. “Though probably with a few well-placed threats.” She glared at Isaac, though Stiles noticed she averted her eyes almost instantly. “Your boy stole what was ours. We just wanted it back.”

“So you take it by force?” Allison snapped.

“We preferred you handed it back to us, with intimidation if the situation had required it, but things didn’t pan out that way, did it?” Danny raised a brow at them. “Even if we did try to get our medallion back peacefully, would you have surrendered it?”

“Yes,” Allison and Isaac said, but Stiles hesitated, glancing at the medallion.

“Stiles!” They both hissed.

“What?” Stiles said. “Did you seriously expect me to have given it back? Or Lydia? It’s a rare artifact from Queen Tielana the First! It has a map to Oran Juhor! No fucking way would I give it to mercenaries!”

“We’re not mercenaries!” Erica snapped. “Stop calling us that! We’re not even thieves! If anyone’s the thief, it’s goldilocks over there!” Isaac glared at her for that.

“Mercenaries work or act merely for money or rewards,” Danny said, leaning back on his hands. “We don’t even need the money.”

“You’re Daron,” Isaac said. “You ransacked the Temple of Karto and stole the scroll of Yosen. You emptied the Tomb of Tu-Daga-Rogo. You stole the Lipe Diamond. Everyone knows that!”

“They did all that?” Stiles asked, confused. Isaac didn’t tell him that before.

“We did do all that, but not all stories have truths in them,” Danny said, rolling his eyes.

“Those are lies, idiot,” Erica snapped back. “And you’re not stealing if it’s actually–”

“Erica,” Derek suddenly said.

Erica paused and huffed, turning away from them. “Whatever. Stupid kids don’t even know what they’re talking about.”

Something suddenly clicked in Stiles’ brain as Isaac’s earlier words registered with him.

Holy shit.

“You’re Tantian fanatics!” he gaped.

Silence and confusion met his outburst.

“…Excuse me?” Kira asked, after a few moments.

“I get it now!” Stiles said. “Daehler, that creepy guy from the restaurant, he said you Daron merce–” He paused when Erica growled. “That you believe in Oran Juhor. I thought it was just because you wanted to find it and steal from it, that you wanted to get your hands on the gold that everybody thought Queen Tielana had hidden there. But it’s not just that.” He looked around at them. “The scroll of Yosen was from one of Tanti’s kings, who gave it to the sisterhood at the Temple of Karto. They considered it their most cherished possession. Tu-Daga-Rogo guarded the royal treasury of Tanti’s High Council. The Lipe Diamond is a Tantian treasure from Queen Pakacu!” He pointed at them. “You’re Tantian enthusiasts, devotees, fans! That’s why you’re looking for Oran Juhor! And oh my fucking god, Daron is the Tantian word for wolf!”

There was silence from the Daron mercena– er, group.

“ _Soga yailone rage tudesi._ (He’s smarter than I thought),” Boyd suddenly commented, the first time he’s spoken since this conversation started.

Stiles was half-delighted at hearing someone, other than Lydia and Professor Evy, speak Ancient Tanti, but the man’s words made him frown.

“ _Yadesi nalayaya dole ttisap!_ (I do know what I’m talking about),” Stiles snapped. “I study Ancient Tanti. I know how to speak the language.”

“Well, we did find out they were working at the museum,” Kira turned to Derek. “Guess it makes sense they’re more informed than we thought.”

“A Tantiologist,” Erica scoffed. “Guess you’re not the only one, Der.”

Stiles whipped towards the man. “So I’m right! You are Tantian-obsessed adventurers! Or whatever you call yourself!”

“My interests lie in Tantian culture, but I’m not a devotee or a fanatic or obsessed,” Derek said.

“Maybe a little obsessed though?” Kira chuckled.

Derek awarded her with a smirk at what was probably an inside joke, and then turned to Stiles. “What we are interested in is to find Oran Juhor, which we know exists despite evidence to the contrary.”

“Because of the medallion you found,” Allison said, nodding towards Derek. “And the scroll from the sarcophagus.”

“These are just one of many proofs,” Derek said.

“You have more?” Stiles asked. He made to step forward before he could stop himself, and it was only Allison’s hand gripping the back of his shirt that stopped him. “I mean, you… you know of other treasures? You… you can confirm Oran Juhor exists? Really?”

When Derek nodded, Stiles was tempted, so tempted, to throw himself at the man and ask what, how, where, why. By the sudden lift of Derek’s brow and the brief flash of amusement on his face, Stiles knew that Derek knew exactly what he was thinking, but Stiles shut his mouth, not about to give him the satisfaction.

Danny waved a hand. “We know it’s real, but the problem is locating it. You don’t have to lie, Stilinski. You might have burned it, but Tantians love their puzzles so even we know that the map doesn’t have the real location of Oran Juhor.”

Stiles schooled his face into passiveness. They were right, but he would never confirm it.

Danny leveled a gaze at them. “Which leaves us with two questions: just what was in that map and how do we proceed from now on.”

“Can we answer neither?” Allison asked.

“Can’t,” Kira said, smiling sweetly despite her words. “Your survival depends on your cooperation.”

Erica pointed a finger. “Weeeell, more like the survival of goldilocks and mama bear over there depends on your cooperation, Stilinski.”

Stiles’ eyes narrowed at her. “You just said you weren’t going to hurt us.”

Erica bared his teeth at him. “Well, if you’re going to force our hand…”

Honestly, he was torn here. Their safety at this point was conditional. As soon as Stiles led them to the location written on the parchment, Daron could easily take them out of the picture if they get to whatever treasure was to be found. At this point, their best bet was to escape, either in transit or as soon as they arrived at their location.

But Stiles wanted – no, he _needed_ to see Oran Juhor, or at least proof of it. When he first laid eyes on that medallion, the idea that he might get to see more of Tantian culture was a craving that was gnawing at his bones. This was… this was his chance. This was his academic passion come to life.

So maybe Daron did take them to the location. Stiles could still ensure his and his friends’ safety and know more about this whole damn adventure…

….if he got to the treasure _first_.

Allison nudged him, and Stiles looked back at her and Isaac’s concerned faces.

Instantly the wind went out of his sails.

What the hell was he thinking? He couldn’t gamble his friends’ safety for this. He couldn’t be selfish. He got them into this mess in the first place. (Okay, so maybe it was Isaac, but still…)

“Coordinates,” Stiles said. “What’s written in the parchment are coordinates to a place called the Giehi Andhor.”

“Giehi Andhor?” Kira squinted. “Meaning body of water?”

“That’s what it says,” Stiles said. “But I’m good enough at maps and coordinates to know that we’re being led to somewhere in the middle of the desert. If I have to guess, we’re going to have to look for something there that’s related to water.”

Derek frowned. He made a motion towards Danny.

“What are the coordinates?” Danny asked, no paper or pen in sight.

Stiles dictated them with perfect memory.

Danny hummed in thought. “He’s right, middle of the desert and somewhere west. At least we’re headed the right way.” He stood up and dusted off his pants seat. “I’ll get us on track and check the database for anything we have about a Giehi Andhor.”

“If we’re being led to some trap…” Erica growled.

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Well, you’re going to have to go there and find out, aren’t you?”

Erica snapped her teeth at him before standing up with a huff. “I’m driving,” she tossed over her shoulder and stalked off to the jeeps, though thankfully not the one Stiles and the others were riding.

Derek looked at them and Stiles straightened, angling himself to keep Isaac and Allison behind him. The medallion around Derek’s neck shone in the harsh sun, taunting.

“This isn’t an adventure, or a field trip, or an expedition,” Derek said, voice low but firm. “Just because we’ve all established that we are all interested in finding Oran Juhor, that doesn’t mean you are guests or that you are welcome.” He glanced at Isaac. “We will dispense with the bonds. As Kira and Danny said, we’re not looking to hurt you, but we will not hesitate to shoot you if you attempt to escape or fool us or hurt anyone of us.”

“So we’re still prisoners?” Allison spat out, angered.

“If you act like it,” Derek replied coolly. “All we need is for you to keep quiet. You don’t annoy us or bother us or question us. You do all that, and we’ll let you go once we secure whatever it is the map wants us to find at the next location.”

Derek addressed Boyd and Kira. “Check the supplies then move out. We still have two hours before it gets dark and I want to put some miles behind us.” He flashed a distasteful look at Stiles’ feet. “And get him the extra boots.”

“I have a question,” Stiles suddenly said, a thought sparking in his head. “You have my Sig Sauer, don’t you?”

Derek seemed to contemplate answering that, before nodding.

Stiles couldn’t hide his relieved sigh. That was one of his most important possessions.

“Add that to my list of conditions,” Stiles said. “Don’t hurt Isaac and Allison, don’t break my gun, and I won’t kill you in your sleep.”

Derek walked off without a word or a nod. Boyd appeared in front of Stiles, herding him back to their trailer using his large body and the rifle slung across his front.

“Come on, Stiles,” Isaac said, tugging him back.

Stiles cast Derek’s back one last glare before heading back to their jeep-slash-prison.

The door closed behind them, but thankfully there was a small window in the door from where they could at least get some light. There was another small window that opened to the front part of the jeep, but the partition was dark and closed. It didn’t seem soundproof, so that was probably how their captors heard them.

They shifted around so that Isaac was closest to the light. He clutched the water canteen like a lifeline, taking deep and calming breaths. Stiles and Allison huddled as far away from the front window as possible but not too much that Isaac didn’t have space… which wasn’t much considering the cramped back.

The jeep chugged along, the three of them bouncing around the back given the jeep’s path over sand dunes and rocks. Allison was right about the customized, heavy-duty Jeep Wranglers. They were black in color with large sand-proof wheels, and while they were pretty monstrous, they drove easily enough across sandy planes and over inclines. If they had met under different circumstances, Jackson and Scott would have drooled over these mean machines and given them four thumbs and four big toes up.

They all checked their clothes. Stiles and Allison’s guns were gone, and so were Isaac’s army knife and all of the throwing knives Allison had hidden on her person. Isaac and Stiles were both indignant at someone having patted her down, but Allison said Kira did it, which led to the boot knife to her throat incident that led to Allison being tied up the way she was. The only thing they didn’t get were the two thick two-inch needles Isaac kept at the lining of the zipper on his jacket. Isaac usually used them for lock picking or as weapons if he really needed them. He asked if he should try them out on the door, but Stiles stopped him.

“We can’t leave now,” Stiles whispered. “Even if you did get it open and we jump off or something, we’re still like sitting ducks in the middle of the desert.”

“And we’ll be screwed once we get to the location anyway because it’s also somewhere in the middle of the desert.” Allison turned to Stiles. “Are you leading them the right way though?”

Stiles nodded. “We don’t have much of a choice. If we even try to lead them somewhere crowded or with other people, they’d get suspicious.”

“What are we looking for anyway?” Isaac asked. “Are we looking for water in the middle of the desert?”

“Not quite,” Stiles said, lowering his voice further. “Kira was right. Giehi Andhor means body of water in Tanti, but what’s actually in the parchment said An-DU-hor, which means the _source_ of a body of water.”

“Why did you lie to them about that?” Isaac asked.

“Because the way I see it, we’re out of options,” Stiles said. “We can’t jump ship now and once we get to where we’re going, we won’t be able to escape because there’s nowhere we can run. I don’t think it’s wise to try and make a break for it tonight once we make a stop, because god knows we won’t be able to survive in the desert at night and we can’t guarantee we’ll be able to steal one of their jeeps. Our best option is–”

“Oh my god,” Allison groaned. “You want to find the clue or the treasure first, don’t you?”

“It’s the only way,” Stiles hissed. “If we make sure we’re one step ahead of them, they won’t kill us or hurt us. So long as I see what’s written and have it in my head before they see it, we have a trump card.”

“He’s… he’s got a point,” Isaac muttered to Allison, who cursed softly and buried her face in her hands.

They lapsed into silence, trying to get comfortable in the back. Stiles wondered how the others were faring.

“What do you know about them, Isaac?” Allison asked. “I mean, Erica said there are rumors about them. Rumors like what?”

“I don’t know much really,” Isaac mused. “I’ve heard about the Daron before, but it’s pretty much what you’d expect – they’re called thieves, thugs, looters, criminals. They’re kind of well-known, but they’ve never been caught and the stories I’ve heard have been pretty divided – some people who they’ve stolen from are pretty angry, some who met them before said they weren’t all bad, some people don’t really care. So I don’t know. They’re reputation as a whole is pretty conflicting now that I think about.”

He scratched the back of his head. “Maybe that’s kinda why I stole from them in the first place. They seemed really intense, but they didn’t look like bad guys. They were actually shopping at the wet market and were busy haggling with the sellers for a lower price when I swiped the medallion.”

Isaac sighed. “Sorry. I didn’t think it would turn out like this.”

Stiles patted his shoulder. For all Isaac was at fault for stealing from dangerous people, Stiles could never thank him enough for helping him achieve his lifelong dream. But he knew that wasn’t exactly a nice thought. And Allison would most likely kick his ass for it.

“Hey, I burned the map, dude. If anything, it’s my fault, too,” Stiles said.

“Though to be honest, I think they were telling the truth about not hurting us,” Isaac said softly. “I mean, they could have just… left me when I… you know…That Boyd guy give us this instead.” He gestured to the canteen on Allison’s lap that’s still more than half-full.

Allison scoffed. “Maybe. As relieved as I am about that, I think they’re just playing nice. It’s something I’ve learned from hunting. You use treats and kindness to get them where you want them before you hit them where it hurts.”

“And that’s not morbid at all, Ally A,” Stiles said.

Isaac suddenly let out a yawn, interrupting whatever else Stiles wanted to say.

“Want to take a rest?” Allison asked. “You know you get tired after panic attacks.”

“You sure?” Isaac asked, rubbing his eyes.

“After what happened earlier, you need it,” she said. She patted her lap. “Come on. See if you can curl up.”

“Thanks.” Isaac said and curled his long frame into a ball, ending up with most of his chest on Allison’s lap and his head on Stiles’. He conked off after around five minutes.

Stiles reached over, twining his fingers with Allison’s and running the fingers of his other hand through Isaac’s hair.

“We’re going to be fine, Ally A. We’ll find a way to get us out of this mess. I promise.”

“I know, Stiles,” Allison said. “And Lydia, Scott and Jackson are going to be looking for us. It’s just a matter of time.”

Stiles squeezed her hand, and hoped against hope that Lydia would find the clue he left behind.

They sat hand-in-hand as the jeep drove off.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Hey!” Lydia glared as the officer pushed her and the boys roughly inside the room. She had half a mind to throw Stiles’ forgotten sneaker at his face. “Watch who you’re pushing!”

“Like we said, you kids stay put,” the officer said, giving Lydia, Scott and Jackson a firm glare. “We’ve got your testimonies and we’ve already got officers on the case. If you want to help, then get out of our way.”

Jackson humped, crossing his arms at the man’s demeanor.

Scott wrung his hands together. “But our friends–”

“Let the professionals handle this, kid. We’ll find your friends,” the officer said, before pointedly closing the door at their faces.

“Well, I never!” Lydia stomped her heels. She tossed Stiles’ sneaker at the door. “How rude.”

This wasn’t good. This wasn’t good at all.

Behind her, Scott was already busy pacing nervously and muttering to himself hysterically.

After Stiles and Isaac were kidnapped, Lydia was dragged back to the closet to be locked up with the others. They opened the door and next thing they knew, Allison was charging at them, managing a neat punch to the tall, burly guy. She was no match for guns and a katana though, and ended up getting brought along. Lydia, Scott and Jackson wound up locked in the closet for an hour before the next shift janitor arrived to let them out and called the authorities. The security guard and the secretary were also found locked in the spare office. No one was hurt, which was good, but the museum was left a mess.

They had to stay behind to wait for the police, who arrived at the same time as Professor Evy, who had been looking for Isaac and her interns.

“Daron?” she asked, seemingly more surprised at the idea of guns being waved around than the mess. “But they’re not violent.”

“Troublemakers, yes, and messy at most, but this doesn’t seem like their style,” Officer Hain commented.

“Do you know them, Professor?” Lydia asked.

Professor Evy nodded. “Yes, my husband Rick knows them. They’ve got a bad reputation in some circles, but they’re not the type to actually hurt civilians, much less kidnap them.”

“But they took Isaac, Stiles and Allison!” Scott commented, already panicky.

Professor Evy was quiet, rubbing her forehead as she surveyed the damage to her museum. “I think I need to make a few calls. Rick is not going to like this.”

“What did they want? What were they looking for?” Officer Hain asked them.

Scott perked up. “We have–”

“– _no_ idea,” Lydia said, shouldering past Scott. “But it seemed they wanted something from the Sher-hina Wing.” She knew there would be no clues left. That Danny guy had checked the shelf over and closed it up, and their leader took the medallion with him.

Officer Hain nodded. “We’ll go check. Maybe we’ll find a clue what they were looking for and why they’d take civilians.” He walked off, shouting for the other officers already milling about.

Now, it was evening, hours and hours after those mercenaries took their friends. They’d been taken back to their rooms like errant children with no idea what to do and how to help them.

“Scott, stop moving around,” Jackson snapped, pocketing his phone. “It’s irritating.”

“I can’t help it!” Scott kept on pacing. “It’s been hours! And Lydia, why the hell didn’t we tell them about the medallion?”

Lydia sighed and picked up Stiles’ sneaker. “Because Isaac might get in trouble for stealing and didn’t you notice how odd everyone was acting?”

“What… what do you mean?” Scott asked, confused.

“Those officers, Officer Hain, even Professor Evy seem to know something about Daron that we don’t,” she said. “Professor Evy didn’t even seem panicked at hearing Isaac was taken by them, and you know how panicked she gets whenever Isaac’s out in the marketplace. It’s like she’s acting as if he’s safe with them.” She stomped her foot. “Something doesn’t add up.”

“I had the same feeling,” Jackson said, frowning. “Even the officers didn’t seem too worried about the mess. If anything, they were confused that there was a mess once they heard this was all Daron’s doing. You’d think the local authorities would be all panicked fearing some sort of international scandal over nonlocals being kidnapped.”

“If that’s true, then they all can’t be trusted!” Scott said. “We have to do something! We can’t just sit here and do nothing!”

“Why’d you think I was making some calls?” Jackson sighed and waved his phone in the air. He turned to Lydia. “The fastest that preparations can be made is tomorrow at four in the morning sharp.”

“We don’t have a choice, but that’ll do.” Lydia pressed a kiss to his cheek. Sometimes, she really did love this man, especially when he managed to read Lydia’s mind and went along with whatever she wanted to do.

“What do you mean? What preparations? What’s happening at four o’clock?” Scott asked.

“Scott, listen to me. Your smarter than this so stop being so panicked.” Lydia pushed Scott to sit down and hopefully calm down. “Stiles and the others are only good to Daron until they reach their next destination. Once they get the next clue, they’d either leave the others stranded or… something worse. But Stiles is smart and resourceful, and with Allison and Isaac’s skills, they’ll find a way to ensure they’re safe. You said it yourself, we have to do something. The best thing we can do is find them, maybe even before those suspicious cops do.”

“And you want to go to Oran Juhor,” Jackson added, eyebrow raised.

Lydia glared at him. Yeah, Jackson knew her too well.

“What do you mean?” Scott looked at them both. “You mean we’re going to…”

Lydia nodded. “We’re going to go and find them.”

“Yes!” Scott was immediately on board. “Yes! I agree! We…” He paused. “Wait, but how are we going to know where they’re headed?”

“Stiles might be dumb, but sometimes he’s not that dumb,” Lydia said. She held up the piece of parchment she’d been guarding since she managed to sneak it away.

Stiles gaped and even Jackson looked wide-eyed.

“I thought you said he burned that,” Jackson asked.

Lydia shook her head. “Apparently he didn’t.”

She could still remember the fear that gripped her when she watched Stiles burn that map, and yes, maybe part of it was the idea that she would never get to Oran Juhor, but also because she instantly knew they were in serious trouble. And it was just pure luck she had checked the sarcophagus just before the police came. At first she just wanted to check the hidden shelf and see how and why no one was able to see it. When she walked around the other side of the sarcophagus, right where Stiles had hidden after swiping the map from Daron’s hands, she saw his sneaker, left behind and toppled onto its side.

And her anger rose like a wave, hands shaking from furiousness at both Stiles and those thieves. She had grabbed the damn sneaker and was about to toss it right out the door when she noticed that the padding was all but falling out of the inside of the sneaker.

While ordinarily, Lydia wouldn’t go near Stiles and his damn feet, this was an exception, and what she saw made her hands shake, but this time in exhilaration.

“Stiles, you damn genius you,” she hissed, resolving at the back of her mind never to repeat those words in that damn man’s presence.

Now, Lydia showed the parchment to Scott and Jackson, the one Stiles had jammed haphazardly underneath the padding of the shoe he had left behind.

“He left the original parchment in his shoe,” she said. “If I have to guess, he burned a different piece of paper from his pocket.” Sometimes she was thankful that damn brat had deep pockets.

A glimmer of hope shone brightly in Scott’s eyes. “This just might work.”

Jackson, on the other hand, sighed. “I hope you know what you’re doing, Lyds.”

“Oh, I do.” Lydia nodded. “We’re getting Allison, Stiles, and Isaac back and get to Oran Juhor. I won’t settle for anything less.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Their captors were, despite the rocky treatment, generous enough hosts. They camped out close to a rock outcrop that gave them enough shelter on two sides and got a fire going to ward away the cold desert air and any animals that would come close. They parked the jeep strategically, boxing them all in, with someone keeping watch by the only exit.

Given Stiles and company’s meager clothing, they had been given more desert-friendly attire. Stiles got boots to replace his lone sneaker, while Isaac had been loaned a jacket to wear over his short-sleeved shirt. It was a bit too short for Isaac’s long limbs so his wrists stuck out, but Stiles was just relieved he was covered. They didn’t have anything to replace Allison’s skirt – Kira was a bit too petite and Erica didn’t seem the type to share – but they gave her a long, thick scarf to make up for it. They were also allowed to sleep on a poly tarp and were given an insulation blanket to share for the night.

For dinner, they were given dried fruits and bread. Listening to their conversation and managing to glance at the other jeep, Stiles learned that they even had some granola bars, ready-to-eat cereal, noodle cups, meat jerky, canteens of water, and more, not to mention some disposable wipes, a cooking pot, and various other supplies.

He had to admit, these Daron wolves were very well-packed.

Stiles was too keyed up to sleep, so after a silent conversation with Allison, he ended up on first watch. Allison had a hunter’s temperament from her hunter father, so she would be able to sleep lightly yet soundly enough compared to Stiles, who would just toss and turn the whole time. Isaac had been drained from his panic attack and even he didn’t force them to let him take a turn.

Each of Daron had their own sleeping bag with rifles and katana just in arm’s reach. Boyd and Erica had settled closest to the exit, and Kira at one end of the camp. Danny had set camp at the other end, but was still by the jeep fiddling with something at the back. Stiles didn’t know if it had anything to do with him staying watch – and he sure as hell secretly wasn’t going to wake Allison up if he could help it – but Daron’s leader ended up sitting opposite him across the campfire. He was very much awake and alert and while the medallion was nowhere in sight, he had Stiles’ Sig Sauer holstered tauntingly at his shoulder. Stiles wanted to throw sand at his face.

At first there was silence, punctuated only with the sound of Danny shuffling about the jeep and the crackle of the fire, before Stiles couldn’t help himself.

“Why are you going after Tantian treasures?” he asked, glancing up from the orange fire.

In the light of the fire, Derek seemed more human now than earlier when all Stiles could think about was how much he hated him. He was silhouetted by the fire with soft shadows falling across his face, and his eyes were bright and deep in thought, so much so that Stiles thought he wasn’t going to answer that question.

And he didn’t.

“How about you?” he asked, intense gaze switching over to Stiles. “Why is it that someone like you, intelligent enough to have been granted internship by Professor Carnahan, would decide to study an ancient civilization and its language in the first place?”

His eyes were really intense and what he said was kind of a compliment, Stiles thought, before biting back, “I asked you first. Who answers a question with another question?”

Derek didn’t answer and just waited, and Stiles realized quickly enough they were probably not going to go anywhere if both of them were just asking questions.

“My mom liked history,” Stiles said. “Instead of fairy tales, she’d turn some historic event into the best bedtime story, and they stuck. And my dad’s a cop so I’ve always liked mysteries. Mysteries and history together and you get Tanti, one of the biggest mysteries in ancient history.” He shrugged. “You?”

He thought Derek wasn’t going to answer and was about to feel like a damn idiot for divulging anything personal, but Derek let out a huff.

“What I want is to know is the story behind Tantian’s culture and its collapse,” he said, which really didn’t answer Stiles’ first question.

Before he could probe some more, there was the sound of the jeep door closing and Danny appeared, finally finished with whatever it was he was doing. He made his way to his sleeping bag, toting a thermos.

Danny actually paused and gave him a considering look. ““We’re not going after Tantian treasures. It just turns out that the answer to all their mysteries can be found in their possessions. Imagine that.”

Before Stiles could parse that thought over, Danny walked away, waving a hand lazily over his shoulder at Derek.

“I’m out, boss.”

“Night, Danny,” Derek grunted.

Stiles hunkered down, avoiding Derek’s eyes. Danny’s words made sense, and looking back, the chain of events that led to this entire mess was because of, well, Isaac stealing the medallion and Stiles burning the map…

Maybe… what if…

“You’re probably keeping watch for the sake of your friends, but considering we’ve fed you and clothed you, we’d just waste our own resources if we would kill you now,” Derek suddenly said. “If I were you, I’d get some sleep.”

Stiles’ doubts and the understanding starting to bloom towards Daron vanished and he bared his teeth at the other man before turning away from him with a huff. And there he was actually maybe thinking that Derek would be really good-looking and nice if he wasn’t their enemy, the jerk.

Tomorrow was another day anyway, and he shouldn’t forget that Daron had messed up the museum, threatened them, and caused Isaac’s panic attack. They were bad guys. Stiles was going to find some way to escape even if he had to shoot one of them to do it.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Matt had always been an early bird. He found that those few hours he was awake usually helped him get one up over his competition. And that same thinking seemed to be paying off.

He had heard about the police being called on Carnahan’s museum. The news that had been circulating was that thieves wrecked the joint, but his connections inside the police had told him about the real goings-on – that Daron had messed up the place and kidnapped three nonlocals, including Carnahan’s nephew.

And that had immediately piqued Matt’s interest because those Daron were damn sissies and cowards, but they weren’t the type to swipe some interns and run off into the night. That only meant one thing: those damn tourists had something of value, maybe even something that could help Daron get a leg up in finding Oran Juhor. That Reyes bitch certainly seemed to be spouting Oran Juhor bullshit around these parts.

So Matt had kept his eyes and ears open, and an early morning stroll skulking about the museum gave him his lead.

He peered around the corner, watching closely as the redhead walked out of side entrance of the museum. Lydia Martin, he remembered her name was. She had two duffel bags with her and had her phone in one hand. After a few minutes, two dune Wranglers rounded the corner, parking themselves across from her. Two males got out, the blond rich boy and the dumb puppy. They were missing the pretty girl with the dark hair and dimples and the talkative and irritating one.

Matt tapped his lip with a finger. Interesting. If he had to guess, those were the ones that Daron had taken. He watched as the redhead handed the males her bags and then ducked inside the museum while the two packed them away inside one of the jeeps. He noticed that they seemed a bit too dressed up so early in the morning – boots, jeans, belt bags, and some holsters.

Matt grabbed his phone, pressing speed dial. He watched as the redhead appeared, locking the door behind her. She talked to them both quickly before directing them into the jeeps, riding with the blond man. He ducked down when the jeeps revved to life and the headlights lit up.

As soon as someone picked up, Matt said, “Are we still tailing the wolves?”

_“Yeah, so?”_

Matt rolled his eyes. This big lump of meat was such a scintillating conversationalist. “I might have found something useful to help us get one up over the mutts.”

There was a grunt at the other end and the sound of shuffling before a female’s voice came on and snapped, _“Talk quick, Daehler.”_

“We know the mutts have the medallion, but now they have a couple of new kids with them and I just found a couple more set to follow.”

_“Your point?”_

Matt bit his lip. These people were so stupid.

“It’s likely the Daron are working with new blood to get to Oran Juhor. We nab the kiddies, bring them over to our side, then we get a bargaining chip over the wolves.”

There was more shuffling and soft speaking from the other end before the woman said, _“Get to base within the hour. And for your sake, you better be right.”_  She hung up immediately.

Matt grinned, rubbing his hands together delightedly.


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles falls, feelings are hurt, and everybody gets wet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is around 1.5k words longer than the previous chapter. It also features a lot of action scenes, something I don't write all that often. Any constructive comments will be appreciated.
> 
> Thank you and enjoy.

They arrived at the exact location of the coordinates at around noon, the sun beating down harshly over them and the wind buffeting them on all sides. These conditions were something Stiles and Isaac were used to as a student of the desert and nephew to an adventuress. Allison wasn’t quite at their league, but a huntress could adapt anywhere and she was honestly doing far better than Scott or Jackson would.

Stiles looked around, the scarf Daron lent him wrapped around the lower half of his face. He wished he had a hat, but prisoners couldn’t be choosy.

The coordinates from the sarcophagus led them to what looked like the remains of a small village. Stone houses dotted the expanse, though not one of them remained fully formed, the homes having long been abandoned to the elements, ransacked by scavengers, camped on by passersby, or simply having fallen to the passage of time. There were probably about twenty structures in all, though the word was used loosely considering how beaten down they all looked.

“This is not what I expected,” Allison said.

“It usually never is with anything Tantian,” Stiles said. “They’re fond of riddles and puzzles, not just to hide their secrets, but also in general. Queen Tielana believed that the mind required constant stimulation. She liked doing these things for fun.”

“Sounds exhausting,” Isaac said, making a face.

Stiles turned to the rest of Daron and was taken aback in surprise. Daron got out a lot of guns, knives, ammo, communicators, and even a folding table for Danny. It was low and small, but it served its purpose as Danny put down an array of communicators, a map and a tablet on top of it then placed his bag of extra flashlights, communicators and other equipment underneath the table. Stiles tried to get closer to listen in, but Kira already had her katana out and herded the three of them to sit down on some of the slabs of stone scattered around the area.

Danny and Derek loomed over the table, pointing something out. “It took me a while to narrow it down. This place is at the base of a mountain of sand, so from a distance it was classified as random rock formation, doesn’t help that the place had been nearly submerged. I finally found it on the older maps we had – Yahob, it used to be called. I don’t think people even remember its name.”

Maps? As in ancient maps? Maps related to Tanti? Stiles had studied nearly every available article, scroll, map, and writing there was. He had never heard of Yahob. And where did they get that map?

“We’ll split up and search the area first,” Derek said. “You all know the drill – Kira with me to the east, Erica and Boyd go together southwest side, and Danny stays behind with the tech and the,” he glanced at Stiles, “extra baggage. You have permission to shoot them if they do anything that annoys you, Danny.”

Stiles glared at him, both for that remark and the fact that Derek had Stiles’ Sig Sauer in his holster. Danny just smirked and saluted Derek, then returned to readying the equipment, though Stiles noted Danny had his rifle, pistol, and ammo in arms reach, not to mention one more pistol in a thigh holster.

“And in case you think of running, just remember there’s nothing out there but desert,” Erica remarked, twirling a knife easily in one hand. “Not to mention Danny’s a sharpshooter.”

Allison glanced at Stiles, an angry look in her eyes, but knowing there was nothing to do about it. She sat down beside Isaac on one of the slabs of stone scattered around the village. Stiles remained standing, leaning against one of the jeeps – which he discovered with a lot of irritation had electronic locks and was near impossible to be broken into – and watched them get ready.

Danny handed out communicators and said something low that Stiles and the others couldn’t hear.

“Move out,” Derek called out.

They moved like a well-oiled machine, or maybe a really trained SWAT team. Stiles watched them split up, guns raised, and started looking around the area. Danny was providing guidance through the maps and the comms. One time Stiles tried to get near, Danny aimed a gun at him and told him to sit back down.

Stiles huffed and Isaac let out a long groan. “Are we just supposed to sit here?”

“Yes,” Danny said. “Unless your know-it-all friend over there can tell us more about where we can find the next clue, _then_ you can do something more useful than just sitting there.”

Allison rubbed Isaac’s back and gave Stiles a look. He nodded surreptitiously. They needed to figure something out or else. Stiles wracked his brains, trying to find some clue to the mysterious Giehi Anduhor.

In the end, it was Isaac who gave Stiles his window of opportunity.

It took almost an hour of boredom and listening to Danny’s side of the conversation. It was just their luck he was wearing earphones to hide whatever information they could hear. Isaac suddenly let out a loud groan of annoyance and stood up. At this point, he didn’t even flinch when Danny raised a gun at him, despite the man reading something on his tablet.

“I’m just getting wood and picking up whatever,” Isaac said. “Better than sitting down.”

“Don’t go too far, Isaac,” Allison warned.

“Or do.” Danny looked up, shrugging. “I mean, it saves me having to shoot you down if you run.”

“Ha-ha.” Isaac rolled his eyes at him and started moving around.

Isaac was picking up wood, kindling, straw, and anything they could burn. Stiles decided to help him, but was also taking the opportunity to look around. Allison stayed put after a silent, glancing conversation between them. It was better for only one of them to look around and the other could run interference if necessary.

Stiles didn’t have the advantage of Danny’s map from whoever they probably stole it from, but it was easy enough to imagine what Yahob had looked like thousands of years ago. The village was arranged in a circle, with each stone house erected several feet apart and bigger and taller structures built at specific northern, southern, western and eastern points. These usually served as command posts for the village’s guards and strongest residents.

Part of the reason the Kingdom of Tanti prospered as well as it did was because of Queen Tielana’s strategic mind and her ability to utilize what resources she had on hand, including people, all topped off with a mindset that had historians the world over debating on her bloodthirsty methods. The thing was, the Queen didn’t believe in imprisoning her enemies. Those who she couldn’t sway to her side or were dangerous to her throne were promptly killed, while the people and the soldiers who accepted her as their liege had to pick a trade and prove their usefulness or else. This resulted in productivity and people with their own livelihoods with minimal cause to complain or revolt.

Stiles was pretty far away from camp, though still in sight, when he tripped and landed on the sand with a thump.

“Oh, shi–”

…and then promptly fell into a hole.

“AHH!” Stiles screamed, sand and wood getting all over his face and mouth as the ground gave way beneath him until he was free-falling. He almost thought he would be falling for ages, when he suddenly fell on the ground with a hard thump.

Stiles rolled on his back, groaning and trying to catch his breath. Holy shit.

“STILES!” A shadow passed through the mouth of the hole above him and Isaac and Allison’s voices echoed around the hole he fell through, bouncing around the walls, and making Stiles groan from the additional pain in his ears.

Stiles waited for a bit, trying to grab his breath, but almost choking on the bits of sand and wood that covered him and got in his mouth. After a bout of coughing and hacking, he took stock of his body. Thankfully, he didn’t hit his head or his face. He didn’t seem to have broken anything, maybe bruised his body somewhat, and was just incredibly winded. He looked up at the mouth of the hole. It looked less than ten meters deep, and he could see Isaac and Allison peering down at him with concerned faces.

“Stiles, are you okay? / Are you hurt?” They were calling down the hole.

“Yo, are you dead?”

Danny’s voice got Stiles moving and he groaned, taking a deep breath.

“I’m fine,” he called out, sitting up gingerly. “I just fell down this…” He looked around. “…hole or something.”

“Stiles, hang tight! We’ll get you out!” Isaac shouted.

Stiles heard Allison ask, “Danny, do you have extra rope?”

“It’s by the– Kira, say that again?” Danny’s voice took on a slight edge and his voice got lower as he walked off.

“Danny! We need rope!”

“Danny, get back here!”

“Your friend isn’t going anywhere, Allison! Wait a sec! Kira, where are you? You’re breaking up.”

“Danny, we need to get Stiles out of there! Just give us–”

“Oh, goddammit, let me finish this damn– Derek, your signal’s getting weaker. Where are you?”

“We’ll get him out ourselves!”

“I think the rope’s in the jeep!”

“Am I going to have to shoot the both of you? Stiles isn’t going anywhere!”

Stiles let their words echo around him and slowly stood up, finally getting his bearings. He let his eyes adjust for a bit before looking around. The hole he fell through was shallow enough and opened up at bottom into a long tunnel, which was tall and wide enough for Stiles that he couldn’t reach either the sides or the ceiling if he stretched out both arms side-to-side or reached up on his tiptoes. It was also only then that Stiles registered that he was also a little damp.

Damp meant liquid meant water.

Giehi Anduhor – the source of a body of water.

Stiles crouched down, touching the wet earth and the stones, then sniffed and licked his fingers. It didn’t smell metallic and it seemed potable.

“Stiles? You still okay?” Isaac called down.

“I’m fine, Isaac. Where’s Allison?” Stiles asked, as he stood up, surveying the hole he fell into. Looking closely, he could see pieces of rock protruding from the walls of the hole like shallow ledges.

“Trying to get Danny to lend us some rope,” Isaac said. He leaned forward and lowered his voice, trying to be inconspicuous. “I think Daron found something, an opening of some kind. I heard Danny talking.”

Stiles found a stone projecting from the wall just a few inches above him. He jumped up, managing to grab a hold of the rock.

“What are you doing?” Isaac asked.

Stiles shushed him and swung from the handhold. He found another one at the same height and reached for it. He lifted himself up and found two more handhelds just a few inches above him, using those to lift himself higher. Closely looking at the wall from this angle, he could see more shallow rocks protruding every few inches.

Isaac saw what he was doing. “Hey! You can just climb–”

“Isaac, shush!” Stiles hissed. He held on for a few seconds and then dropped down.

Those were handhelds and footholds, just in case someone fell into this…

It hit Stiles like lightening.

This was an [ancient well system](http://www.urgentevoke.com/profiles/blogs/ancient-wells-in-the-desert)[1].

Ancient civilizations, including the Kingdom of Tanti, managed to build a reliable source of water in the desert by building subterranean tunnels stretching hundreds of meters deep and twice as long. They built a series of vertical shafts, each one deeper than the other, connected through a gently sloping tunnel. Through the help of gravity, enough manpower, and accurate measurements, these tunnels brought ground water to the surface where they could be used for irrigation or converted into drinkable water. This was an alternative to pumping and having to transport water through the killer desert.

The well Stiles fell through was too shallow. This was likely one of the shallower access shafts, the ones accessible to workers and used for construction and maintenance. That meant somewhere out there was the mother well, the deepest well that served as the main water source of the well system.

Source.

Giehi Anduhor, the source of a body of water – the mother well.

Shit.

Stiles suddenly remember what Isaac said. Daron found an opening. Maybe they had also found a well like what Stiles had fallen into.

“Stiles? Are you all right?” Allison called out, and a light shone down on Stiles almost blinding him. “Danny still hasn’t given me some rope, but he gave me his flashlight so we can see you, the damn jerk.”

“Allison, I need your help,” he called out, shielding his eyes against the piercing light. “Which direction is the village?”

“What? Why?” Isaac asked.

Allison however moved promptly. She looked around and then down at Stiles. “To your left.” She moved the flashlight around to point the way.

Stiles turned around and raised his hand. The village where Daron went to was where the water ended up, so that was downhill. That meant the mother well was uphill in the other direction, the _source_.

“Where’s Danny?” Stiles asked. “Can he hear us?”

Allison looked up and around. “I don’t think so, but we can’t be too careful.”

Stiles crouched down and managed to find a sturdy piece of rock. He tapped it against the walls. It made a tapping sound. This would do.

“Ally, listen,” He called out, trying to keep his voice as controlled as possible in case Danny could hear.

He started tapping his rock against the wall. Stiles looked up. He couldn’t see them much, but suddenly the flashlight started going on and off.

Thank god for his police dad and Allison’s hunter of a father because he had never needed Morse code now more than ever.

Stiles tapped the rock against the wall in reply.

This just might work.

It took minutes of debating through code and furious low whispering before they could understand one another. Danny had only called out once, curious why they were there. Allison had bit back that they were just keeping Stiles company in the absence of Danny’s initiative to lend them some rope, which led to Danny ignoring them once more.

“Are you sure about this?” Isaac asked once he was told of the plan. He knew Morse code too, but wasn’t as well-versed as the others.

“I should be asking you that,” Stiles muttered. “I said lend me a flashlight, but you guys didn’t want to let me go on my own.”

“I’d rather go down there, than stay up here,” Allison said. “Give us a few minutes.”

They both left and Stiles started pacing, wondering if this was such a good idea, but Allison had been adamant and Isaac didn’t want to be left alone.

The plan was simple. They had to–

_“I GOT IT!”_

_“RUN!”_

_“GET BACK HERE!”_

_“GO! GO!”_

Gunshot.

Stiles looked up the hole, cursing under his breath. The plan was to steal Danny’s equipment bag and get in the hole, and also not to get shot.

Stiles yelped when he saw Isaac just about threw himself down the well. For a split second, Stiles thought about catching him, but that would only hurt them both more than help. Then he noticed Isaac was clutching a rope and he slid down easily.

“Isaac, what the–”

“Incoming!”

Isaac held out his arms as a duffle bag fell from above them and then Allison appeared, scaling down the rope.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” Danny shouted.

“Go! Go! He’s got a gun!” Allison hissed.

Stiles and Isaac ducked down deeper into the tunnel.

“Tell Derek we’re going to get the next clue first!” Allison shouted up at Danny before the three of them ran down the tunnel towards the direction of the mother well that Stiles had pointed out earlier.

They stopped running once they got deeper into the tunnel, aided by the flashlight from Daron. Stiles leaned back against the side, heaving. Isaac placed his hands on his knees. Allison didn’t even look winded, already grabbing the duffel and sorting through the contents.

“Are you okay? Nobody got shot?” Stiles panted, trying to catch his breath.

Isaac shook his head, speaking between pants. “He almost had me, but he just fired a warning shot. I thought he was supposed to be a sharpshooter.”

“How’d you even get the rope?” Stiles asked. Isaac simply pointed at Allison.

“I managed to snag it on a rock while running,” she said. “We lost that rope, but there’s some extra in the bag.” She showed them the contents. There are two more flashlights, a compass, binoculars, an empty water canteen, a first aid kit, a handyman kit with duct tape, a whistle, a lighter, and a multi-tool. There were no weapons though.

“So, what’s the plan?” she asked.

Stiles explained the mother well and his theory about Giehi Anduhor and the mother well.

“I think you’re onto it,” Isaac said. “I heard Danny talking to Derek about losing their signal if they were going underground.”

“So there’s a chance they’re walking this way,” Stiles said, grabbing a flashlight for himself. “Let’s move.”

They walked on, Stiles first, then Allison, then Isaac with the duffel. The tunnels were damp and smelly, but thankfully not too much as to be overwhelming, and every few meters they would see another vertical shaft leading up to a well. The wells were closed off though, and with sand and wood covering and burying them aboveground, it was obvious why they weren’t noticed. Stiles was relieved to note that each of the shafts had their own stone handholds and footholds.

“I had a thought though,” Isaac said as their boots made slick sounds against the damp rock. “Is this well still working? I mean, it is wet.”

“It’s not,” Stiles said. “If water was still flowing, someone would have built a township or at least a campsite at the mouth of the well for travelers and passersby. No one would leave this place to ruins, not if there’s water available. Since the wells are closed the water’s got nowhere to go, what’s here is mainly just moisture from underground and whatever water is still trickling.”

“Oh, good,” Isaac sighed in relief. “I’m not really partial to drowning.”

Villages had much smaller and shorter well systems compared to towns and larger settlements, so it wasn’t long before their uphill ascent brought them to what was undoubtedly the mother well, going by the solid wall of rock a few feet ahead of them and the fact that the mouth of the well seemed the farthest above their heads compared to the others.

“We’re at the end.” Stiles clapped his hands. “Let’s get to work.”

“What are we looking for?” Allison asked.

“Anything that looks like it’s related to the Kingdom of Tanti,” Stiles said. “I’ll check the wall at the end. Allison, check the sides. Isaac, you’re tallest and you can climb. See if there’s something up the mother well, but be careful. And keep your ears peeled for Daron.”

They split up and started looking around. Stiles walked forward to the end of the tunnel, shining his light around. All he could see at first were the rocks smoothed over by the rush of the water centuries past, and the near oppressive darkness, until he reached the end wall.

“Guys,” he called out. “Never mind. I found the wolf.”

The end of the tunnel had a sloping roof and set into the wall far out of the reach of the water that flowed through the well and chipped at the rocks was a nearly-preserved stone mural, so vast and so detailed the flashlight couldn’t cover the entirety of it.

“That is beautiful.” Allison gasped.

The mural was similar in theme to the one that wrapped around the sarcophagus back at the museum, but this was one was more detailed considering the wide space available. It portrayed the forest with what looked like incredibly detailed leaves and foliage and people, young and old, gathered around a tall bonfire. Stiles was awestruck at what details he could see in the darkness of the well. Imagine what it would look like if they could see it in the light. Shame the mural was hidden underground.

“What now?” Allison asked. “We don’t have the medallion.”

Allison had been the one to remember that they needed the medallion, which was unfortunately still on Derek’s person. But after Stiles and Isaac had seen Derek in action, they knew what to look for.

Stiles took the left side while Isaac took the right. The scenery was vast and detailed, so it was hard to see, but they combed the mural as much as they could, trying to find a slot where the medallion could possibly go. It had to look like a slot, most likely circular, and probably looked like part of the story depicted in the mural.

They jumped when a sound, a little like something hitting the water, echoed from deeper into the well.

“Hurry,” Allison whispered.

“I think I see something,” Isaac suddenly said after minutes of nerve-wracking searching. “Come on. Boost me up.”

“But you’re heavy,” Stiles said, then hissed when Isaac promptly punched him on the arm.

“I’m taller than you,” Isaac said, as if that explained it, then held up the two-inch needles he had hidden on his person, the ones Daron weren’t able to confiscate from him. “And you’re not the one who knows how to pick a lock. So shut up and let me sit on your shoulders.”

Stiles groaned, earning a pointed hiss from Allison to shut up, and then hoisted Isaac up on his shoulders.

“Stop complaining.” Isaac flicked him on the forehead then got to work. “And stop moving so much.”

Stiles tried to see what Isaac saw, but it was hard considering where he was standing and the darkness of the well.

They heard another sound and Stiles could feel himself sweating.

“Stiles, move to the right, just a little,” Isaac instructed him.

Stiles inched a little to the side. There was the sound of something hitting rock and Isaac straining and pulling against something.

“Did you find it? Did you find a shelf?”

“I think so, but it’s…” Isaac grunted. “It’s kind of… a cylinder… you need to rotate… I might have to chip off some of the rock…”

“Don’t break it! Oh my god, Isaac!” Stiles hissed and jostled Isaac about on his shoulders. “That is a priceless monument of an ancient kingdom immortalized in ancient stone and should be preserved!”

“Well, how do you want me to get the damn thing out, Stiles!” Isaac said, looking down at Stiles. “If you want to be the one to open this damn shelf, then be my guest!”

“Stop arguing and hurry, you idiots!” Allison hit Stiles on the back and then Isaac on the behind. They could hear footsteps approaching and because of the echoes, they couldn’t be sure just how far away Daron was.

“And hey, wait a sec!” Stiles protested as Isaac resumed fiddling with whatever it was above him. “Allison knows how to pick a lock and she’s damn hell stronger than you! I should have carried her up!”

Some shuffling, a final grunt, and the sound of scraping rock and a piece of rock breaking off and falling – much to Stiles’ horror at desecrating such a sacred mural – when Isaac finally let out a whoop of triumph.

“I’m pretty sure they heard that down there,” Allison said. “And I think I can see their lights.”

“I just… gotta… move the needles.” Isaac strained against Stiles’ shoulders. “Got it!”

Stiles suddenly saw a piece of paper hovering in front of his eyes. He crouched down so that Isaac could get off.

“Show me! Show me!” Stiles held out a hand.

Suddenly, there was the clear sound of Derek’s voice.

“STILINSKI!”

“Where’s the flashlight?” Stiles dove towards Allison, placing the parchment under the light so he could read it.

“Shit,” Stiles hissed. “What is this? I can’t… it’s…”

The parchment contained six words: _deno ai feri feri ai deno._

All three of them jumped up when they heard Erica’s voice, and she sounded really, really mad.

“I’m going to shoot your damn asses!” Erica roared, running towards them. At this point, they could clearly see her blonde hair and that she was charging at them, guns out.

“Oh my god, we’re gonna die!” Isaac cowered close to the wall behind Stiles and Allison. “We’re going to die!”

“She’s not going to shoot us,” Allison said, voice low. “If she does, the bullet’s just going to ricochet and possibly hit one of them.”

“She’ll probably drag us out of these tunnels, then shoot us,” Isaac whimpered.

Stiles scanned the paper. This was most likely a question or a riddle. Tantians loved those, but he couldn’t…

Just before Daron was upon them, Stiles grabbed the paper and shoved it under his shirt. He grabbed Isaac and Allison and pressed themselves flat against the wall, a few feet away from the mural. Just as he pushed Allison behind him, he found himself staring at the business end of a gun.

Erica was breathing heavily and glaring to kill. As much as Stiles was also of the opinion that Erica wasn’t going to shoot them _inside_ the tunnel, Isaac might have the right idea about what she was going to do to them.

“You know what? I've had enough,” she hissed, her voice an acidic hiss that echoed around them. “I am getting so damn sick and tired of you holding those damn maps over our heads as bargaining chips.”

“Erica!” Kira snapped, running up to them, but even she looked hesitant to pull Erica back, because the fury in her eyes and voice was deadly.

“You think this is a game? You think we're just some looters and mercenaries out for gold?” She snarled. “Let me tell you something, boy. You don’t know what you’re getting into, and you sure as damn hell don’t even understand how fucking important this expedition is.”

Boyd finally stepped up, grabbing Erica around the waist. Erica didn’t struggle against him, but she obviously wasn’t happy about it.

“Erica. Cool it,” Boyd said softly.

“I'm sick and tired of this idiot making us out to be bad guys.” Erica waved her rifle at them and Stiles had to hide a wince of fear that she would fire. “We could have easily killed you, or army girl over there, or let your puppy die from an asthma attack when we first grabbed him, or had Danny shoot you the moment we found one of the wells to this system. We needed only one of you, but here we are feeding, clothing, and putting up with you three.”

And for some odd reason, something in her tone of voice stung, and Stiles was surprised by the feeling that grew in his chest. They were just securing their chances of survival here, making sure these Daron weren’t going to hurt them, but the way she talked… it was like a damn punch in the gut.

“Erica.”

At Derek’s voice, Erica finally stopped, stepping back with a huff and then turning around and walking a few feet into the tunnel, probably in a bid to cool off.

Derek brought up the rear, face impassive. There was a look in his eyes, and for some reason, it stopped Stiles’ first impulse of, as Erica put in, holding the map over their heads. He took the medallion out from around his neck under his shirt and then handed it to Kira.

“Kira, check it, please?” he simply asked.

Kira nodded and walked over to the mural and shining her flashlight around. “Another wall mural, similar to the first.”

First? But wasn’t that the sarcophagus and not a wall mural…

Stiles glanced at Allison and Isaac, who both seemed to have also caught on. That meant, they had seen something – _or things_ – even before they arrived at Cairo and saw the sarcophagus.

“If that’s the case, we have to be prepared,” Derek said. “Let’s do this step by step. And Erica, contact Danny, would you?”

There was a mumble from down the tunnel from Erica, before they heard the sound of the radio clicking on. But Stiles didn’t have time to listen because he was busy watching Derek, Kira, and Boyd.

Boyd opened the bag he was carrying and pulled out a sturdy digital camera on a handheld tripod that was connected to a little box. Boyd placed the box on the ground, tilting up its legs to face the wall mural, while Kira grabbed the camera and pointed what was obviously an underground camera up at the wall.

“Clear.”

With a snap of the shutter came the sudden bright yet controlled flash of the light box, not enough to blind them all, but bright enough to give them a split second view of the mural. Kira took a few more shots, allowing them all to marvel at the mural.

“That is really beautiful,” Isaac murmured. His jaw shut with a click when he realized his voice still carried around the damp tunnel, but none of Daron reacted.

Kira then handed the camera to Derek. “I need a boost. Boyd can you help? You’re tallest.”

Boyd stepped forward and let Kira sit on his shoulders, much like Stiles and Isaac had done. In comparison though, Kira had a much easier time than Isaac, simply sliding the medallion into the groove much like Derek had done before back at the museum. Boyd and Kira moved back behind the camera and they all watched as Derek took a photo. The split second view of the mural was, just like the carving along the sarcophagus, a mural turned into a completely different photo with the medallion in place.

One thing that Stiles hadn’t seen when Isaac was fiddling with the shelf was that unlike the one in the sarcophagus, the circular grove where the medallion rested didn’t seem like the full and fat circle of a dark full moon. A pocket of rock was carved to cover part of the medallion, and this time it showed an image of people in the forest celebrating around a bonfire under a quarter moon.

“How come that one’s a quarter moon?” Stiles asked, transfixed by the image. “What’s the difference with the one in the sarcophagus?”

Derek didn’t even bother looking at them or acknowledging them. He took a few more photos before handing the camera to Boyd to be packed up.

“What do you think is the catch this time?” Kira asked.

“It’s water, so we’ll probably drown,” Erica piped up, walking back. This time she didn’t even bother addressing Stiles and company.

“What did you say? / Wait! Drown?” Stiles, Allison and Isaac gasped.

“Is Danny ready?” Derek asked.

Erica nodded and Stiles cursed inwardly that he hadn’t been listening to her side of the conversation. “Yep. He lowered an extra one into the closest well, but he kept the original one from our spot just in case we miss the first for any reason whatsoever, so all we’re up against is time.”

“Good plan,” Derek said.

“Wait a sec! Stop ignoring us goddammit! What’d you say about drowning?” Stiles asked, feeling himself clench a little in fear. Shit. He hadn’t thought of that.

Tantians loved their puzzles, but sometimes they put in traps that acted as deterrents against thieves or challenges for those who wanted to test their mettle. The sarcophagus at the museum was retrieved by Professor Evy without trouble, so there were no traps there. Was this underground mural different?

Only Kira seemed to acknowledge them this time, always acting as the peacemaker above the others. “Tantians love their traps, you know that.”

“So what? We might trigger water? I thought this well wasn’t working?” Isaac asked, voice a little shrill.

“It’s not, but we never really know,” Kira shrugged.

“But there’s an opening at the mouth where the water comes out,” Stiles said, the thought suddenly coming to him. “Even if there is water, we’ve got a way out.”

“The outlet has completely collapsed,” Kira said. “We found an access shaft like what you fell through which is how we got here.”

Oh shit.

“You’re being far too relaxed about this,” Allison said. “We have to get out of here before we trigger a trap.”

“No need to stay here longer than we have to,” Stiles said. “We’ve already got the clue.”

Nobody acknowledged that. Derek turned to Kira and Boyd. “Pack up.”

Kira nodded and made to get back up on Boyd’s shoulders to take the medallion, only for all of them to startle at the sound of rock breaking. In front of their eyes, the piece of rock that covered the medallion to give it the look of a quarter moon suddenly fell apart and the medallion fell to the floor with a clang.

“What the…” Kira picked up the medallion and the piece of rock.

Boyd pulled her back just in time for the entire shelf to slip and fall at her feet, immediately breaking into pieces. All heads turned to them, while Stiles turned to Isaac.

“Isaac, you broke the mural!” Stiles hissed.

Isaac was wide-eyed. “I-I-I didn’t know! I was trying to get the shelf to open! I might have chipped the rock by accide–”

Isaac’s words were interrupted by the sound of dripping. They all turned to see that the hole from which the shelf fell out of was now letting out water.

Erica literally facepalmed. “Oh, goddammit! There it is!”

As soon as she spoke, the entire mural suddenly started leaking water.

Derek rubbed his temples. “Pack up! Go!” He glared at Stiles, Allison and Isaac.

Kira tossed Derek the medallion and immediately started ushering them back down the tunnel. Erica was first, having already made a run for it, while Boyd and Derek brought up the rear.

“Danny, flood’s a-coming,” Erica said to her walkie talkie.

Stiles flinched as the water started coming up to their ankles. The water was rising fast.

“How are we going to get out?” Isaac asked, voice shrill with panic.

“There’s a ladder lowered down one of the wells,” Kira said. “Danny said it’s the one you fell through.”

“That’s close by. We can make it,” Allison said.

As she said that, Stiles felt himself lurch forward when a wave of water suddenly hit them all from the back, dousing all of them from the waist down. Allison would have stumbled had Stiles not managed to grab her hand. He felt Kira bump against his back, and helped steady the petite woman. Only a certain amount of force could cause any kind of wave at such close quarters. This meant that even more water was leaking.

“Even the walls are starting to leak,” Boyd said, checking the walls with his flashlight. And Stiles marveled at how strong he was, considering that he was lugging bag of supplies but didn’t even bow under the wave and was still able to keep pace.

“Keep moving!” Derek growled.

Stiles ran, making sure to check on Allison and Isaac, and even Kira, constantly. At this point, they weren’t running though water, but slogging through it and at one point, even Boyd and Derek started breathing heavily.

Stiles realized soon enough what Boyd meant because as they passed by several vertical shafts, even water was dripping from the holes. At a pass under one of them, Stiles found them all soaked from head to toe.

“The water’s coming from all around us,” Kira panted, clearly struggling against the waves. She almost slipped, had Allison not grabbed her arm.

“It also doesn’t help that the tunnel is tilted downhill,” Derek said. “It’s making the water move faster toward us.”

“This isn’t good. This isn’t good,” Isaac muttered again and again.

They struggled on. Another wave brought the water mid-thigh, which made their trek so much more difficult.

Erica was far ahead of them and they could see her blonde hair and a flash of light. “The well is up ahead!” she called back to them.

Finally, they got closer to the well, the one Stiles had fallen through, and Stiles could see the ladder Kira was talking about. Erica was already on her way up, but with the way the walls of the well were leaking water, the ladder was soaked and her hold was precarious. Danny was also visible up at the mouth of the well, peering down at them in concern.

“Get your asses up!” she called down and trying to climb faster.

“Allison, Kira, go!” Stiles helped both women up.

It was difficult. The water leaking from the wall was making everything slippery and getting in their eyes and faces, the ladder was soaked and the waves flowing through the tunnel were tumultuous and making the ladder sway. Allison managed to get a good foothold before slipping up and falling back into the water. When it was Kira’s turn, a sudden wave made her miss the ladder and Isaac had to grab her before she got clocked on the face by the ladder rungs. Stiles had to lift her up so she could get her feet up the ladder. As she climbed, a length of rope fell from above.

“Hold on!” Danny called down.

Derek turned to Boyd. “You’ve got the camera. Go before the ladder gets more soaked!”

“Boyd, the walls of the well have handholds,” Stiles said as he checked on Kira and Allison’s progress. “Use those if you can, unless they’re leaking water too.”

Boyd nodded and started scaling the rope, so quick and nimble despite his large frame. He seemed to have seen the protruding rocks, but used them to brace his feet to avoid slipping down. Above them, they saw Erica get hauled out by Danny. They both reached their hands down to the well.

“Come on, Allison!” Danny shouted down. “Reach up!”

Stiles turned to Isaac. “Now you! Go!”

A wave knocked Isaac, Stiles, and Derek off their feet. So much so that Stiles’ head was submerged underwater for a few seconds.

“Stiles!” Isaac called out.

Stiles saw he had managed to wrap an arm around one of the rungs. “Go! Go up! Go up!”

Stiles threw an arm out to grab the ladder and reach out for Derek’s forearm. Derek didn’t hesitate and grabbed him back as well. His other arm was holding onto the extra rope and he tried to steady his legs against the water.

Stiles looked up, trying to blink back the water falling on their heads since he had both hands busy. Boyd was slowly making his way up, slowly so as not to fall. Kira was having trouble with the slippery ladder and Isaac was catching up to her causing traffic. With the way the water was coursing through the tunnel, he and Derek were in danger of getting swept up if they didn’t get higher, but there was only space for one more person on the ladder and the water was already chest high.

“Stiles! You go first!” Derek called out. “You’ve got the map! Get it up there!”

“Derek, you go! I’ve already–”

Stiles swallowed the rest of his sentence, but thankfully not the water that slammed him in the face. For a split second, he lost hold of both Derek and the ladder and found himself flowing with the current downhill. Suddenly, someone grabbed him hard by the arm and yanked him back and up against the water and close to a sturdy body. Stiles’ head broke the surface and he gasped for air. He tried to get his feet back on the ground, but the current was too strong.

“Stiles, don’t let go!” He heard Derek yell. He wrapped his other arm around Derek’s waist.

“Derek, grab hold! We’ll pull you up!”

Derek made to answer, but Stiles suddenly went under again and it felt like Derek did too. Stiles struggled, trying to find the surface and get air when he felt a sudden tug against Derek. They broke surface, both of them, and Stiles could hear Derek gasping for air close to his ear. Stiles looked around, blinking against the water, and saw that Derek had wrapped the rope several times around his arm. They were moving against the current so the others might really be pulling them up the well.

“Derek,” Stiles panted. “You okay?”

“I’m-I’m good,” Derek gasped against Stiles’ ear and coughed harshly.

Stiles kept his arm around Derek’s waist and reached out to grab the rope to try and even up their weight. With both their weights battling against the water, Derek’s arm might seriously get injured. Stiles grunted when he felt the rope, wet thought it was, cut into his skin. He didn’t have gloves like Derek, but he was not going to let go.

Progress was slow, but they finally got their heads up past the water and into the shaft. Isaac was still on the ladder, but Allison and Kira were already hauling him and the ladder up. Boyd and Danny were the ones holding onto Derek and Stiles’ rope. Their real enemy was the current trying to pull them under and deeper into the tunnel, so once the others managed to pull them up into the shaft and away from the coursing water, their ascent was easier.

With one last heave from most of the gang, Stiles and Derek cleared the mouth of the well and collapsed on the sand in a wet heap, panting, tired, and sore. The others also stumbled into sitting around them, breathing hard and laughing a little hysterically.

Stiles still had a hold of Derek’s waist and vice versa, both of their arms still wrapped around the rope, and legs only just clear from the mouth of the well. “Thank you,” Stiles whispered.

Derek let out a grunt, but he squeezed Stiles’ waist in reply and that was enough.

 

 

* * *

 

 

They all got various cuts and bruises from their excursion in the well, though Derek and Stiles undoubtedly ended up the worst off with the friction burns from the rope, Stiles most especially.

Stiles sighed in relief as Danny rubbed the ointment all along his arm and hand. He didn’t have gloves like Derek, who got off with a sore shoulder and only slight friction burns around the exposed part of his forearm and on the tips of his fingers. Ultimately, Stiles ended up the worst of all of them, which was fine by him. They were all alive, that’s what mattered.

“We’ll bandage this up, then you’ll be fine,” Danny said, pulling out a roll and helping him put it on.

While they didn’t have enough spare clothes for everyone, they were able to get a fire going immediately thanks to Isaac collecting all that kindling. Just in time too, because the sun was going down when they emerged from the well. They had been in the underground well for a while.

Danny was inspecting Stiles and Derek, who were seated side by side on a fallen log. Boyd was seated on the sand, shirtless and guarding some of the clothes hanging from sticks and drying near the fire. Isaac was keeping the fire going with the extra kindling. Allison was beside him, arms held out to the fire. Erica was seated on the open back of one of the jeeps under a blanket, having stripped down unashamedly into only her underwear.

Not that Stiles meant to look, but it was pretty hard not to notice the Daron’s trademark three spiral tattoo on her. The center of the spiral was on the ball of her left shoulder and its three legs circled her bicep, her back, and across her collar. It was eye-catching, similar to the tattoo low on Danny’s neck, visible whenever he wore anything unbuttoned or without a collar. He hadn’t seen any of the others’ tattoos, and he briefly wondered where Derek’s was.

Kira was walking around holding out little vials of what were apparently medicine. Boyd and Erica drank theirs easily.

“Drink this,” she said, handing one each to Allison and Isaac. “We all might have swallowed dirty water. We don’t know with all these ancient traps, so best to drink these to be safe.” She moved on to the others.

Stiles didn’t even bother telling them to be careful about it, and they didn’t bother hesitating to drink the vial. At this point, saving one another’s lives gave them all a little perspective.

Kira also handed him and Derek a full vial each to drink. Derek looked like he was going to complain, but Kira held a hand out to him.

“You two went under the most,” she said. “I want to be safe rather than sorry, Der.”

Stiles downed his just as Danny finished the last of his bandages.

“There.” Danny smiled and packed away the medical kit.

Stiles looked around at all of them, tired and wet and… having saved one another.

“I’m not sorry,” he said.

They all turned to him and Stiles powered on.

“Yes, we might have played a part in that flood and endangering everyone, but I’m… I’m not sorry we got to the clue first. You saved our lives.” He looked at Danny, Erica, Boyd and Kira, and then turned to Derek beside him. “You saved my life, and I’m thankful. But the clue is all I have to keep myself and my friends safe. I’m not sorry for that.”

Erica sighed loudly. “At this point, Stilinski, I really don’t fucking care anymore.” She sounded more tired than angry.

And at this point, Stiles didn’t even bother feeling offended. He’d been turning the clue over and over in his head anyway, and it was no use keeping it to himself.

“The clue we pulled out was a riddle,” he said instead. He took a stick from the ground and started drawing the symbols in the sand. Danny and Kira came closer and Derek leaned close to Stiles to see.

Translating it into modern alphabet, it read:

_“Deno, ai feri. Feri, ai deno,”_ Derek read. “Falls, never breaks. Breaks, never falls.”

“That’s a riddle all right,” Danny said. He jogged off. “Wait, I’m going to get the camera.”

“So then it’s a question,” Kira said, sitting down to peer at the symbols. “What falls, but never breaks, and breaks, but never falls?”

They all ruminated on that one for a moment and Danny came back with the camera, taking pictures of what Stiles wrote.

“I hate riddles.” Isaac groaned. “They’re hard and tricky.”

“Riddles are fun. They’re meant to be challenges and little brain teasers,” Danny said.

“I nominate Danny to take my turn in answering,” Isaac said. Danny rolled his eyes at him, but Isaac just grinned toothily.

“What falls, but never breaks?” Kira mused, a finger making circles in the sand. “Water?”

“That would be so ironic, wouldn’t it?” Allison commented. “But it only fits the first question, not the second.”

Stiles looked around at everyone. “Wait, the riddle has two questions, but is there supposed to be only one answer or two?”

“One / Two,” came various replies.

“Well, that helps.” Stiles sighed.

“It’s so much easier to think of things that fall but don’t break,” Danny said. “Water… feathers… lizards… cats… bouncy balls…”

Isaac groaned. “I take it back. Danny is apparently no good at riddles either.” Danny just smirked at him.

“What breaks, but never falls?” Kira asked. “That’s the trickier question.”

Erica’s voice suddenly came from the jeep, annoyed. “If the answer to that damn riddle is something as corny as someone’s fucking ‘heart,’ I am walking away from this mission, Derek! I swear to God!”

“You were the one who thought of it, Erica,” Derek called back.

Erica’s cursing in reply to that was none too graceful, nor too polite, but by the smile on Derek’s face, it was all in fondness.

Stiles ducked down and bit his lip to hide his sudden laughter, but Derek seemed to have caught it going by the quirk to the edge of his lip.

“It’s night and day.”

They all turned to Boyd, who had been completely silent only up until that moment. He was looking up at the darkening skies. When his words sunk in, there was a flurry of awe and excitement. Danny ran straight to the jeep, grabbing his tablet.

“Boyd’s right,” Derek said.

Kira’s eyes were sparkling. “What falls, but never breaks? What breaks, but never falls? It’s nightfall and daybreak.”

“What’s that got to do with anything?” Allison asked.

“The Tantians had one god, the Mother Goddess, and believed in the magic of the moon and its many phases,” Stiles said. “It was one among the many reasons other kingdoms and factions were wary of them, most of whom worshipped the sun and the light, and thought differently against the darkness and the shadows.”

Danny returned, fingers swiping against the screen of his tablet. “One of their greatest adversaries, so much so that a large part of the culture, history, and workings of the Kingdom of Tanti was extrapolated from their well-documented altercations, is the Ninca Empire[2].”

“How does that help though?” Allison asked. “That doesn’t lead us to a next location, unless we’re going to where the Ninca Empire used to be?”

“No, it does help and it does give us a clue,” Danny said. “If there was only one answer, it would make sense. In this case, night refers to the Tantians, while day refers to the Nincans. If the answer was night and day…”

“Harawo,” Derek said.

Isaac gasped, eyes lighting up, while Allison looked confused. “Ha… what?”

“Harawo,” Danny said. “Despite the fact that Tantians and Nincans were often enemies, they also became occasional allies and were often civil to one another. They were both great kingdoms, they both benefitted greatly from one another, and they were both well aware that should they choose to fight an all-out war, neither of their kingdoms were sure to survive. So in an effort to maintain their fragile peace, they decided on neutral territory – Harawo.”

“It’s a play on words,” Stiles explained. “Hara-in is the Nincan word for ‘day,’ while Siawo is the Tantian word for night. Together, it means the place where night and day meets.”

“Neutral territory.” Allison nodded, starting to understand.

“They established the halfway point between both their kingdoms and built the Temple of Harawo,” Danny said. “They meet there to discuss any and all matters that concerned both their kingdoms.”

“Do we know where it is then?” Allison asked, standing up. “That sounds exci…” She paused.

Stiles turned to her. “Allison?”

Allison’s knees started to shake very visibly and she fell to the ground, before slumping over, unconscious.

“Allison!” Isaac called out and made to stand, but his knees also buckled under him. He looked to Stiles, eyes wide, before they rolled over to the back of his head and Isaac fainted.

Stiles didn’t bother standing up because he suddenly felt it, a heavy sensation that tugged at his arms and legs and made his vision blur.

“That took a while,” he heard Kira mutter. “Still, it worked.”

The vial of medicine.

“Derek.” Stiles turned to Derek, seated beside him. And honestly? At this point, Stiles’ head was still a touch clear, just that inch of understanding that helped him register what they had done. And why.

“I’m sorry about this, Stiles,” Derek said, eyes so green and so intense in the light of the fire. He looked at Stiles and he did seem sorry for what they had done. “I’m sorry, but it’s for your own good… and ours.”

Stiles shrugged, breathing already heavy. “Yeah… I… get it…”

That was the last thing Stiles registered, before he closed his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **References:**  
>  [1] The ancient well system was inspired by old well systems called the qanat or kariz, as read [here](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Qanat).
> 
> [2] Inspiration for the Nincan Empire was obviously from the Incan Empire, as read [here](https://www.factinate.com/things/24-decadent-facts-inca-empire/) and [here](https://www.ancient.eu/Inca_Civilization/).


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reunited and it feels so good… until it doesn’t.

Lydia Martin examined the photos she had taken and compared it to the files and photos she had on hand. She brought the portable lamp a little closer, then started writing her notes meticulously in a journal, making sure to add reference numbers for later comparison and compiling.

She absolutely abhorred what these Daron mercenaries were doing, including kidnapping her friends. But ever since they came into their lives, the wealth of information she was getting on the Kingdom of Tanti was slowly expanding. She had always enjoyed discovering things for herself more than deferring to the opinions, writings, and findings of others. Thankfully, this entire mess had its bright side.

Maybe her friends getting kidnapped was a blessing in disguise.

“Lyds.”

She looked up and Jackson was handing her a water bottle. “Thanks, hon. What time is it?”

“It’s almost five,” Jackson said. “Should we get going?”

Lydia nodded and left Jackson to it. A few seconds later he could hear various people shouting – Scott first, then Stiles, and finally Isaac. Allison woke up from all the shouting with a soft, confused mumble. Lydia slowly packed away her files, photos, and books in a special waterproof bag, and then checked on what was happening.

Everyone was just coming to. Jackson seemed to have woken them up with a swift kick in the rear going by the boys rubbing their behinds.

“Jackson, you are a fucking jerk!” Stiles was shouting in time with Scott’s exclamations of, “Why the hell did you kick us, you bastard!”

Isaac was busy groaning and Allison just looked confused.

“Jackson?” she asked. “Isaac? Lydia? You’re here?”

Both Scott and Stiles suddenly stopped shouting and then glanced at one another before lunging at one another in a brotherly hug and tipping over in the sand.

“Bro! You’re here! / Of course we are!” they shouted. “I was so worried! / How did you find us?”

Lydia packed her bag away in the jeep and then turned to the others. After a few minutes of watching Stiles and Scott’s reunion, Jackson checking on Isaac, Scott moving to Allison to check on her, then Stiles rounding back on Jackson for kicking them awake, she brought her fingers to her lips and let out a shrill whistle.

“Shut up and get yourselves together,” she said. “We’re wasting time.”

Stiles finally scrambled up to standing, brushing sand off of him. “Lydia, what happened? How did you get here?”

“You left the clue in your shoe, man,” Scott said. “Which by the way was the coolest idea! Lucky Lydia found it first before those suspicious policemen.” He turned to Allison. “It’s how we found you. Good thing Jackson and Lydia were good planners. We got jeeps and equipment and went out to find you.”

“Jeeps?” Isaac finally noticed the jeep wranglers and let out a whistle. “Woah! Sweet rides!”

“What suspicious policemen?” Stiles asked.

“Wait, this is high-grade equipment. Did you tell my Dad?” Allison asked.

Stiles’ eyes suddenly widened at the more important question. “Did you tell _my_ Dad?”

Lydia checked her watch. They still had time. “Okay, story time. And Scott, hand out food and water to everyone. Jackson and I were the ones who stayed up all night, so you do all the work.”

Scott didn’t seem to mind and he gave Allison one last kiss to the cheek before heading for their supplies. Stiles, Allison and Isaac all seemed to understand that Lydia was serious, and started listening more closely.

Lydia told them what happened – from having the janitor set them free, finding Stiles’ shoe and the hidden clue, their suspicions over the police and even Professor Evy knowing more about Daron than they let on (Isaac had blanched at the idea, but Lydia had managed to word it neutrally enough that he didn’t seem to take offense), and then getting ahold of their contacts, including both Allison and Stiles’ fathers, to get them supplies and equipment.

Stiles whimpered, rubbing his face with a sigh. “Aw, man. He’s going to kill me.”

“We’ve been driving nonstop to find you,” Scott said. “When we got here last night, we found you around the campfire, unconscious. What happened to you guys? Why were you laying out there? And why are you injured?”

Lydia watched Stiles rub his temples with his hands, an odd expression on his face and bandages wrapped around his arm and hand. She made a mental note to remind him of the first aid kit they brought along.

“They gave us something that made us fall asleep,” he said. “Honestly, I’m not surprised they did it. What happened between us was… yeah, that was a bit of a mess.”

Allison snorted at that. “That’s an understatement.”

Isaac frowned. “I’m more surprised they just left us in the middle of the desert. I thought they were decent enough people.”

“When we arrived, the fire was still going and there were supplies left behind.” Jackson motioned to a sack placed to the side, and then handed Stiles his phone to show him the photos. “And there were still fresh tracks around. We took pictures just to be safe. I think we just missed them when we arrived.”

Stiles scrutinizing the scene. “Maybe an hour?” He handed the phone to Allison, who was a far better tracker.

Allison zoomed in on the photos before declaring, “Closer to forty-five. The indents were still deep.”

“Not to mention we found this.” Jackson pulled out the little device from his pocket. He tossed it to Stiles. “It’s an SOS transmitter. It was online when we arrived, broadcasting on all frequencies. We turned it off once we checked it. It turned up in on our own communicator, but we’re not sure if anybody else picked it up.”

“Daron might have left you, but I don’t think they left you unprepared or unsafe,” Lydia commented, wondering at such generosity and why a couple of mercenaries would be that merciful.

Stiles grabbed the sack of supplies, checking the contents. Lydia had already looked through those too, filled with some food, fruit, water, bandages and ointment, a blanket and a pair of gloves. An odd expression crossed Stiles’ face when he saw the thick black gloves. He pulled them on, flexing his fingers in the worn, warm leather.

“You guys actually woke up about an hour after we arrived, but Lydia let you sleep it off because you guys still seemed wrecked.” Scott handed out protein bars and water bottles. “It was late enough that we had to make camp anyway.”

“What happened here?” Jackson asked. “And what’s with the bandages?”

“We have the next clue,” Isaac piped up excitedly and pointed a finger. “And you won’t believe where it is! It’s–”

“Underground in the old well system, we know.” Lydia couldn’t help popping that excited balloon. Consider it payback for all the mess and stress Isaac had caused. He deflated like a balloon.

“We checked out the area,” Jackson added. “We saw water close to the village, and then we saw the open well. Lydia and I checked it out. Scott was too scared to.” He avoided the kick Scott aimed at his shin.

“Wait. _You_ went down there?” Isaac turned to her.

“Of course.” Lydia scoffed. “We were already here. What else were we going to do while you slept?” She rubbed her chin. “Going by the fact that the well was far too damp, the water across the way looked fresh, and you all look injured and shell-shocked, I’m guessing the well flooded.”

They all nodded.

Allison recounted the tale right from when Daron first kidnapped them, to Daron’s apparent fanaticism over the Kingdom of Tanti, to finding the village of Yahob and the underground well, to Stiles’ suicidal plan to jump in the tunnel and find the clue, to Isaac breaking the mural, and to them and Daron saving one another.

Isaac cowered under Lydia’s glare upon hearing he had broken the mural. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to break it!”

Lydia rubbed her temples, trying not to fly off the handle. She had seen the mural and taken some photos. The mural was still intact, save for a few chips here and there, no doubt from the force of the water and from some damn heavy paws poking and prodding where they shouldn’t. She glared at Isaac one more time.

“If I had to guess, the water’s original purpose isn’t necessarily to drown thieves or treasure hunters. It’s probably meant to flush people out. Tough luck for you guys that the outlet where the water was supposed to come through had collapsed, though when Jackson and I walked through there earlier, the water had seeped through the rocks enough that we only needed boots to get through.”

“Lucky you,” Allison said.

“You got busy while we’re asleep,” Stiles commented. He had taken off those black gloves for the moment to start checking on his bandages.

“Of course. Sleep is for the weak.” Lydia stood up and clapped her hands. “And speaking of weak, get your butts into high gear because we need to go.”

Scott nodded. “Yeah, let’s go and get back to Cairo. I’m sure everyone will be relieved… to…” He sighed at the look on everybody else’s faces. “We’re not going back to Cairo, are we?”

Jackson snorted. “It’s like you forgot who you’re talking to, McCall. Seriously.”

Scott stomped his boot on the sand. “We have to go back! We shouldn’t–”

“Come on, Scott. Where’s your sense of adventure?” Isaac asked, slapping him on the back. “Even Allison wants to go.”

“Ally, no.” Scott whined.

Lydia rolled her eyes and left Allison to placate her boyfriend. She turned to Stiles, who was rubbing ointment along his arms. “Where’s our heading?”

Stiles motioned to Allison who suddenly reached down into her skirt. She pulled out a piece of parchment. “I slipped the clue into Allison’s skirt when we were trying to get out of the well,” he explained. “With the water closing in on us, I wanted to save the map first in case I went under.”

Allison handed it over to him. “It got wet and I think I ripped it a little when I was trying to dry it out. Thank god none of Daron thought to check too closely under my skirt.”

“Speaking of that, we’ve got extra boots, pants and clothes in the jeep.” Jackson pointed a thumb over his shoulder. Allison sighed in relief and gave him a thumbs up.

Stiles grinned and waved the clue towards Lydia. “The clue is in the form of a riddle. Care to take a guess?”

Lydia raised an eyebrow at him and nodded. She didn’t like the challenge in his voice.

 _“Deno, ai feri. Feri, ai deno,”_ Stiles recited before handing the paper to Lydia. “What falls, and never breaks? What breaks, and never falls?”

Lydia inspected the paper before moving to the jeep to tuck it away for safekeeping along with the other important documents.

“I’m not good at riddles,” Scott muttered.

“Take a guess,” Isaac asked, excitedly. “It’s actually kind of fun figuring it out.”

“Only because you already know the answer,” Scott countered.

Jackson made a face. “Why do we have to guess? You all obviously know what it is. Just tell us. We’re wasting time.”

Stiles shrugged and slid on the black gloves. He picked up the sack Daron left them. “We can pack while you take a guess. It was a bit of a challenge to figure out. Surprisingly, one of Daron was good at riddles.”

“You mean you didn’t figure it out?” Lydia raised her chin at him. “The oldest riddle in the world?”

“What is it?” Scott asked.

“It’s night and day,” Lydia said.

Isaac and Stiles dropped their jaws and the sack. Allison clapped appreciatively.

Lydia tapped her chin. “The Kingdom of Tanti has their Moon Goddess, which obviously stands for night, Then the day must be…” She paused, wracking her brain. “The Ninca Empire and their sun worship…” She snapped her fingers. “The place where night and day meets is the Temple of Harawo.”

Isaac and Allison looked suitably impressed, while Stiles narrowed his eyes at her.

“How the hell did you know that?” he demanded.

“You’re losing your touch, Stilinski.” Lydia grinned and clapped her hands. “Now, let’s pack up and go!”

Stiles started grumbling. Sometimes he was such a sore loser about these things. Allison, Scott and Isaac started packing up and arguing about who was going to sit in which jeep. Lydia noticed Jackson’s grin and sly wink. She smirked back.

Stiles had a habit of sleep talking. It wasn’t their fault if they heard him say those words.

 

 

* * *

 

  

They were finally on their way a few minutes later. Lydia was in the Wrangler with Jackson and Isaac, while Stiles, Scott and Allison shared the other. Isaac and Allison were the designated drivers this time, while Lydia and Stiles were navigating. They had the comms on as they debated on the fastest route to get to Harawo. Both of them were in silent agreement that they needed to get there as soon as possible with as few rest stops as possible. They weren’t quite sure if they’d be able to catch up to Daron.

They had just exited the village boundary when Allison’s voice suddenly came clear through the comms.

 _“Pause,”_ she said, her Wrangler immediately starting to slow down. Isaac followed suit and killed the headlights.

“What is it?” Lydia asked. She peered out of the window to see Allison leaning out of the truck, binoculars on hand.

 _“I’m seeing smoke,”_ she said, looking far off at the horizon. _“Someone’s made camp up ahead.”_

“What?” Lydia whipped around. She couldn’t see much because it was far too early in the morning, but she trusted Allison’s sharp eyes.

Jackson had grabbed his own set and was already looking through the lens. He nodded. “Yep. I see it too.” He handed them to Lydia.

“I’m pretty sure Daron wouldn’t come back,” Lydia mused. “Think these are friendly?”

Stiles’ voice came on. _“I’m trusting my gut here and saying not likely. But this close to the village of Yahob? Who else knows about this place apart from us and Daron?”_

 _“There are no lights from what I can see, just the campfire. It’s still early, so they’re probably still asleep,”_ Allison mused.

Lydia turned to Jackson and Isaac, sighing. They all knew what that meant.

 _“Let’s check it out!”_ Stiles said.

 _“Hey, Jackson. What weapons did you bring?”_ Allison asked.

Lydia smirked and Jackson snorted loud enough for the comms to no doubt pick up. “Weapons, she asks.” He got out of the jeep to check their cache at the back. They all followed.

Scott looked worried as he got out, eyeing Allison and Stiles. “Maybe we don’t need weapons. Maybe they’re friendly. Maybe Stiles and Allison are wrong.” He was ignored.

Stiles made to reach into his belt, only to pause. “Ah damn. I forgot Derek still has my damn Sig Sauer.”

“Who’s Derek?” Scott asked.

“Daron’s leader. Let’s do this later, babe,” Allison said, distracted. “So, who’s coming?”

Allison and Stiles wouldn’t be deterred and honestly, Lydia was feeling just as curious.

“Babe, no.” Jackson sighed, though it was one of defeat. He might protest, but he knew Lydia would do whatever she wanted.

Stiles grabbed the communicators.  “Allison, Lydia and I will take a route around, find higher ground and check on our guests. Based on the way their camp and their jeeps are aligned, they’re obviously headed towards the village. It’s better if we don’t meet them head-on. Isaac, you’ve got the sharpest eyes aside from Ally. You’re on long range. Scott and Jackson, you keep the jeeps warm and ready in case we need to run.”

“Got it.” Isaac nodded. He turned to Jackson. “Jax, what do you got for long range?”

Jackson reached into the cache in their jeep and started pulling out all manners of weapons: knives, rifles, revolvers, pistols, a really intense elephant gun, and even a few sticks of dynamite. And that was only half of them, what with the other cache he brought still closed and locked. While Lydia wasn’t quite as into weapons and firearms as her boyfriend, she still couldn’t help be impressed by what Jackson managed to arrange for them, with some added help from Chris Argent and John Stilinski’s contacts.

“Sweet.” Allison dimpled with glee.

Stiles grabbed a few guns with a resigned air, no doubt missing that sentimental Sig Sauer of his. “We have to hurry,” he commented, looking up at the skies. “Dawn’s coming.”

Weapons and communicators on hand and a game plan to follow, Lydia and Stiles followed Allison as they stalked forward. She directed them slowly but surely to a path going around the camp. The dense desert pavement of sand and gravel gave them much easier footholds, but the crunch of it under their boots if they moved too quickly would be a dead giveaway to anyone listening. Eventually they got on their knees, crawling slowly up an embankment and peeking over its crest down at the camp.

Allison’s earlier guess was half-right. Because of how early it still was, some of the people down below were still asleep, but one or two were already up. There were two jeeps, red in color, and a few figures dotted around the campfire. Lydia counted five people. Stiles brought out a tablet and started taking photos.

They all watched in silence, and thanks in large part to the wind and their vantage point, they could hear snippets of conversation from below.

“–not here!” one of the males below shouted. He was short and stocky with short, dark brown hair and was rifling through a sack. He didn’t seem to find what he was looking for because he threw the sack and its contents on the ground with a huff.

“There’s more in the jeep,” another male said, sitting on his sleeping bag and not making a move to help.

“No, there’s not!” the first male said. He pointed over to a figure still wrapped inside a sleeping bag. “The dumb gorilla ate them all!”

An arm snaked out and pointed a gun right at the direction of the complaining man. “Do you want to die, punk?”

Lydia glanced at Allison and Stiles, who both looked back uneasily. Casual threats weren’t signs of some friendly folks.

“Ethan, shut up,” A voice piped up, female. The woman tossed her bedroll in the back of the jeep before grabbing another sack. She tossed it at him, sending him stumbling back. “Here are the food packs. Heat them up so we can eat.”

“But–”

“Now!” the woman hissed. She had long dark hair and tan skin. Even from a distance, Lydia could see the large guns strapped to her thigh.

The male trudged off with the sack, muttering under his breath. The second male that spoke hastily stood up and started fixing up his bed roll. That gave Lydia a clear enough view to see that they were twins.

“And you, get up!” She moved over to the figure still holding the gun and kicked him. “Get your damn ass up and start packing.”

The man stood up, grumbling as he did so, and while few things genuinely unnerved Lydia, she couldn’t help feeling a bit nervous at the man. He was a tall, tan, mountain of a man, very muscular, and built like a veritable human tank. He was even bigger than Boyd.

Suddenly the door to one of the jeeps was kicked open and somebody stumbled out. Lydia suddenly felt her breath catch. Allison was also glaring at the scene while Stiles was cursing under his breath.

Matt Daehler, that smarmy, sleazy guy they met back at Cairo, practically fell on his face when he got out. Considering he had been trying to dissuade them from searching for Oran Juhor, it was a curious and hypocritical instance to see him here, just a few miles away from the village of Yahob.

“Ugh, damn jeep!” He kicked the wheel and then stretched his arms in the air. “Kali, that damn jeep of yours is too damn cramped!”

Kali, the woman, snorted. “Oh, fuck you, Daehler. Not our fault you’re a pussy who’s scared of sleeping on the sand.”

Even from a distance, Lydia could see the outrage on the man’s face, but he stayed his tongue. If she had to guess, Daehler obviously wasn’t far up the totem pole in this chaotic group.

Not much activity happened for the next few minutes after that, and what conversation they could hear weren’t all that helpful. Lydia was about to suggest leaving and focusing on their journey to Harawo, when the door to the other jeep was thrown open and a woman slid out of the driver’s seat. She was tall, with long, slightly curly, dark hair, and pale skin that stood out against the harsh desert and her more tanned companions. It was obviously apparent that out of everyone, _this_ woman was the top dog. While the others didn’t show respect or reverence, they at least stopped their squabbling in her presence.

“We’ve got the mutts,” she said.

‘Mutts?’ Lydia mouthed. She looked to Stiles, who replied with a confused look, ‘Daron?’

“Where?” Matt asked, obviously excited. “Where are they?”

The woman didn’t even bother glancing his way.

“According to my _tawi-e_ , they’ve been sighted on the way to Htes, most likely as a stopover to resupply,” she said.

Lydia jerked in surprise, and she felt that Stiles did too. _Tawi-e_ , that was a Tantian word, old Tantian come to that, from a very early era of the Kingdom’s history. Specifically, it meant ‘slave.’ The word was used less and less as subsequent Tantian rulers started a more progressive, if slightly militaristic, form of rule. Eventually the word had morphed into _tutowi-e_ , to mean something along the lines of ‘subordinate, second or assistant’ depending on its use. During Queen Tielana’s rule, the word _tawi-e_ had been outlawed completely. According to her philosophy, it helped no one to consider some people so far beneath them that it undermined her vision of people more dedicated to productivity rather than petty titles or ranks.

For this woman to use that particular word, that was _definitely_ a glaring warning sign, even more than the holsters she had strapped to her person.

“ _However,_ ” the woman turned to Matt, “according to the sightings, only Daron was en route. There was no sign of those so-called kids you were talking about, Daehler, not even Carnahan’s nephew.”

Lydia, Stiles and Allison all glanced at one another, uneasy.

“What?” Matt reared back, wide-eyed. “Impossible! They grabbed three of them before they left Cairo! And three more brats were set to follow!”

“We have seen neither hair nor shadow of them,” the woman said, stalking slowly towards him. “I thought you said they were supposed to be useful to us.”

“They are! They will be!” Matt stepped back, looking nervous. “Maybe they just split up on the way! I don’t know! But I’m sure they have that bitch’s nephew too!”

The woman paused, hip cocking to the side, and towering over Matt. Lydia had the horrible thought that she might suddenly shoot him, but suddenly the woman stepped back.

“Hm. Let’s see then.” She turned away. “For your sake, Daehler, they’d better be there.”

The others, the twins, the mountain man, and Kali, didn’t seem fazed. In fact, they seemed amused.

“Anyway, Htes is pretty close,” Kali said. “We can still catch up.”

“What’s our plan then?” the constantly complaining twin asked.

“We check out Yahob first and see what those wolves were looking for,” the woman said. “They’ll arrive at Htes soon, but I’ve sent instructions to my _tawi-e_ to delay them enough that we can catch up and follow them to their next destination. They have no cause to suspect that we’re on their tails. So get everything ready. We ride fast.”

Stiles didn’t bother waiting for the rest. Lydia noticed that he was already scaling back down the embankment as quietly as he could. Allison nodded and they followed suit.

“The plan hasn’t changed,” Lydia said later on once they got back to the other boys and the jeeps and they had relayed what they had heard and learned. “We get to Harawo first, and at this rate, we’re most likely going to get there before Daron and those new hunters, which is to our advantage.”

“We’re still going through with that?” Scott hissed, wide-eyed and panicked. “Those hunters are obviously Daron’s rivals and they’re also looking for us! They even threatened Professor Evy and Isaac! Why the hell are we getting involved with this mess? Let’s just go home and report them all to the authorities!”

“We can’t just go, Scottie,” Stiles said. “Daehler and his group have obviously got _something_ planned, something not good. We can’t just abandon Daron–”

“We can! We honestly, completely, totally can and should!” Scott protested. “If you’re forgetting, Stiles, they started it! They kidnapped you, threatened you, and almost killed you with that well.”

Lydia rubbed the bridge of her nose, almost at the end of her patience. “Honestly, if we’re looking for someone to blame for how this all happened, Isaac’s the one who took the medallion in the first place and then opened his big mouth to blab that he could open the museum wing where the sarcophagus was. Then Stiles was the one who just had to burn the damn map instead of giving it up quietly, and then it was his idea and Isaac’s big paws that broke the damn mural and flooded the damn well that almost killed them.”

Both Stiles and Isaac seemed to accept that, not even the least bit offended.

“That’s kind of true,” even Allison had to admit.

“At this point in time, I don’t even care whose fault it is or who’s the damn enemy,” Lydia said. “We are getting to Harawo and I am going to see Oran Juhor for myself. You can either come with us or we’ll drop you off on the way. No one is forcing you to be here, McCall.”

She ignored his pout and the hurt in his eyes. Honestly, in another world and another story, Scott would be making the most sense, but frankly she didn’t care. This was her path to discover Oran Juhor, and she was going to take it with both hands and a damn gun if she had to.

“Lydia’s right,” Stiles said. “And honestly, Scott, enemy or not, historic discovery or not, it’s not right to at least warn them. We obviously have a common enemy.”

Isaac, who had paled somewhat at the news that his Aunt was involved, nodded. “And Aunt Evy knows more than she lets on. You said so yourself, that she acted suspiciously back at the museum. Now these people, who are also after Daron, are talking about her. There’s something bigger going on here. And I think the only way to find out is by talking to those wolves.”

Allison stepped up and before she even spoke, Scott already looked defeated.

Lydia didn’t even bother listening. The first rays of dawn cut through the sky, and she already knew she was going to get what she wanted.

 

 

* * *

 

  

It was still dark out, but the journey to Harawo would take more than two days and they wanted to put some miles behind them. Thankfully they were well-supplied and Jackson, who was in charge of inventory, was quite a stickler for rationing and recycling. They would be able to travel with as minimal stops as possible compared to Daron and those mysterious new players. Factoring in the delays those other two would be facing, Lydia and Stiles were both relatively certain they would arrive at Harawo first.

And they did, though even Lydia had to admit that the sight wasn’t all that impressive enough to warrant people racing to see it.

The Temple of Harawo was built as a solitary monument in the middle of the desert in a joint endeavor by the Nincans and Tantians. The rectangular-shaped structure loomed over one hundred and thirty feet from the ground in four distinct steeped levels. The first two levels housed resting areas for the soldiers, guards, and escorts, the third level was for the members of the royal contingent, while the fourth level was divided into two for each of the visiting rulers. The summit of the structure served as the gathering chamber where they discussed important matters. A single circular staircase wound up the temple. Save for strategically-placed round pillars and load-bearing walls, the entire inside of the temple was almost nearly exposed with wide open window holes and doorways and holes in the ceiling to let in as much and light air as possible.

Some historians theorized that the temple was designed to be a straightforward structure, no secret rooms or dark nooks and crannies that could allow for suspicious planning against and between the mighty rivals. It was a solitary monument erected in the middle of the desert symbolizing the cooperation of two warring empires and the desire for near complete transparency.

So how in the world did Queen Tielana manage to hide a clue here? In a structure meant to be as exposed, as obvious, and as barren as possible?

Stiles and Isaac were obviously thinking the same thing, going by their pensive faces. While Lydia had only been here once, both of them had visited Harawo three, maybe four times more. Obviously they were also wondering where the clue could possibly be.

“That’s it?” Scott asked, an incredulous look on his face as he peered up at the temple. “That’s supposed to be the oh so scared place where night and day meets?”

“It’s not exactly a striking tourist spot,” Allison commented. “Though all the better for us, I suppose.”

“Since the temple is pretty out of the way, not a lot of people go here unless they really need to,” Isaac said. “What you see on stock photos on the internet is pretty much what you’ll see in real life, so there’s no use wasting time and resources to go here.”

“Do you have a game plan then?” Jackson asked, looking at the structure with distaste. “Because that is a ridiculously overexposed structure.”

Lydia and Stiles had already put together a plan the night before. It wasn’t foolproof, but it was the only plan they had. Stiles and Lydia were the ones who were going to explore the temple. They were hoping their knowledge of Tantian and Nincan culture would help them find the clue easier. Scott and Jackson were going to come with them as backup. As for the jeeps, the exposed nature of the Temple didn’t provide the comfort of covers or a hideaway, so they would have to be parked a fair distance away. Allison and Isaac had the sharpest eyes and were both good at driving. They were going to man the lookout point and getaway.

“We’re going to move the jeeps due east of the northern side, right against the sun,” Allison said. “That’s as much cover as we can get since we– oh my god.”

“Holy hell, Jax,” Isaac gasped.

Jackson grinned, brandishing a military grade sniper rifle. “I only have one so you two figure out who’s going to get this and who’s getting something else.”

“Where did you get that?” Stiles asked, eyes bright. Scott was almost drooling.

“Moving on.” Lydia waved a hand to stop all the gaping and handed out small, slim radios. “Keep the comms on at all times, but no chatter.”

Stiles slung a rifle across his back and holstered a few guns on his person. “Daron’s friendly, at least compared to the other group, but as of the moment, let’s be wary of both.”

They all nodded.

Allison and Isaac dropped the rest of them at the foot of the temple and then drove off. Scott and Jackson were going to find a good vantage spot to stand guard.

“Let’s go, bottom to top,” Stiles said to Lydia.

Lydia nodded. “And let’s make this quick.” They both had agreed not to split up because being together would help them look through areas faster and maybe even solve whatever riddle the Tantians had planned.

The temple was just as bare inside as it was outside. Every hallway, doorway, and window was wide, and all halls led to the only staircase. Lydia couldn’t help feeling discomfited every time they passed by an exposed spot.

 _“So far we haven’t sighted anything,”_ Allison said about half an hour in.

 _“It’s too quiet,”_ Scott whispered. _“It’s eerie. There aren’t even any birds.”_

Lydia paid them only half a mind as she and Stiles checked the first level.

Since the Tantians and Nincans built the Temple of Harawo smack dab in the middle of nowhere miles away from the nearest town, they also built in a lot of additional features so that they would only need to bring the most essential items. At the first level, where most of the monarchs’ retinues resided, they built long stone tables, stone benches, some large stone fireplaces, and hooks of rocks along the walls that were probably used for hanging clothing, weapons, or bags of supplies. The walls were bare and devoid of any distinct features that might be prominent to either cultures, giving it a neutral feel. But the walls also had a lot of strategic window holes placed around the rooms to allow air, light and sound to come in. It prevented people from hiding secrets and harboring plans, and kept the inside of the temple cool in the middle of the desert.

Lydia was running her fingers through the grooves in the wall, all the while wracking her brains for any clues or ideas. The Nincans were straightforward people. They weren’t all too fond of playing mind games like the Tantians. Their mindsets differed greatly in that respect and caused a lot of friction between them. The Nincans preferred to practice diplomacy and court, and while Tantians also did the same occasionally, they also employed certain games for their amusement. No doubt that while the Nincan workers who took part in building Harawo would work simply and quietly, the Tantians would try to slip a little harmless prank or two in there.

Stiles was taking photos of everything with the tablet, methodically cataloguing each area, while Lydia walked around the corner, thinking of checking out the next hallway…

…only to get a gun in the face.

In hindsight, Lydia was glad she didn’t flinch or scream. The surprise might have shocked the other person into shooting her face off.

“Huh.” Lydia looked at the gun then at the other person, then sighed. “I am going to kill Jackson and Scott. We told them to use the comms.” She didn’t bother turning around, but she called out behind her. “Stiles, your friend is here.”

Lydia kept her eyes in front and watched the way Kira gazed over her shoulder.

“Stiles.”

“Kira.”

She smiled mildly. “I hope you don’t expect me to apologize about my little sleeping tonic.”

He shrugged. “I wasn’t going to ask and frankly, I wasn’t even offended by it.”

Kira sighed and then lowered her gun, though she didn’t holster it.

“This is insane,” she muttered. She sighed. “Should I even ask?”

Lydia stepped back once she heard Stiles moving closer. Warning bells were ringing in her head about this woman, but Lydia hadn’t spent any time at all with Daron. Stiles had, and he didn’t seem the least bit threatened even though he and Lydia didn’t have their guns on hand while Kira was toting a gun and a katana. So Lydia let him do the talking.

“It’s a long story,” Stiles said, shrugging. “I’m surprised you’re here though. I thought we’d get here before Daron did.”

Kira shrugged back. “Even longer story.”

“Does that story have anything to do with the group following after you?” Stiles asked. “We don’t know them, but we might have heard the name Kali among others.”

That got Kira’s peaceful mood to dissipate.

“How did you know that?” she asked, gun hand twitching, though she didn’t point it at them.

Stiles raised his gloved hands, motioning to his tablet. Kira nodded and Stiles showed her the photos he had taken earlier of that other group. Kira cursed, quite loudly and intensely for such a petite woman.

“They said they had a _tawi-e_ at Htes saw you,” Lydia added. “They had them delay your resupply and travel.”

“We wanted to get here first, possibly to warn you if we had time,” Stiles said. “Daehler and those guys seemed like bad news and seemed to hold a grudge.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” Kira muttered. Her other hand landed on her pocket, most likely a phone. Her eyes flashed to Stiles. “Now that you’ve warned us though, I guess you’re also here to find the clue _first_ , like always.”

Stiles raised his hands. “I won’t deny it. We’re already looking around trying to find it, and while we’re armed and we’ve got the gang all together, it is glaringly obvious to us that we both need and want Daron’s help.”

“And honestly, I don’t want Isaac and Stiles poking and prodding at any more Tantian artifacts,” Lydia couldn’t help adding with a huff. “They just about broke the last one, for god’s sakes. Can’t believe they’d do that.”

“It was an accident, Lyds,” Stiles sighed.

“Yeah, even Derek wasn’t happy about that,” Kira couldn’t help admitting. “He wants to keep everything related to Tantian culture as preserved and safe as possible. That chip in the mural was a little hard for him to take.” She waved her free hand. “Pleasantries aside, all I want to know is what we’re going to do now.”

Her gun hand twitched. “We have the same goal, yes, but at this point, Stiles, if Daron is already dealing with _those,_ ” she sent a look of distaste at the image on Stiles’ tablet, “we don’t want the extra, trouble-making baggage.”

“You obviously have a problem with Daehler and those guys, well so do we,” Lydia said. “We have a common enemy.”

A dark expression crossed Kira’s face. “They’re not just some gang. You don’t know them.”

“Who are they?” Stiles asked.

“I can’t say much. Not without Derek here.” Kira sighed. “The woman, their leader, is named Jennifer Blake. If you’re already calling _us_ mercenaries and looters, I wonder what you’d call the likes of her. She’s been after Derek, and by extension all of Daron, for a long time.”

“And now they’re after us. We heard them,” Stiles explained. “Not to mention they threatened Isaac and Professor Evy. We’re already involved in some way even if we didn’t know about it.” He held his hands out. “You just said it yourself, Kira. Derek cares about the Kingdom of Tanti and Oran Juhor. Near death experiences notwithstanding, you know we care about this just as much as you guys do and–”

Lydia stepped forward. This wasn’t the time to sugar coat things. They were up against the clock here. “Look, Kira, I can understand your concern about us making trouble and being baggage, but frankly, the only reason things ended up as fucked up as they did is because you all decided to bring along Stiles and Isaac, who are both definitely more trouble than they’re worth. Thank your gods you had Allison to balance them out. Things will go so much smoother now that I’m here and if we worked together. So pick your poison because I’ve already missed part of this adventure and the only way you can stop me is by shooting me. And at this point, the only thing that’ll help all of us get one up on this Jennifer person is if we _all_ find the clue first.”

She turned on her heels and walked off, leaving Stiles and Kira. They were wasting time by standing around here gabbing like gossiping girls. The clue wasn’t going to just reveal itself.

“Is she always like that?” she heard Kira ask.

Stiles chuckled. “Yeah, Lydia runs a tight ship.”

Whatever else they spoke about was lost behind her as Lydia walked down the hall as she was planning to do earlier.

“–felt we were being spied on,” Kira was saying by the time they both caught up to her. She finally had her gun holstered and was a tad more welcoming. “But it would have been too obvious if more than one of us went ahead. I’m the best at sneaking around, so I hitched a ride and left first.”

“The others?” Stiles asked.

“Still on their way,” Kira said. “I’ve been hoping to find something before they arrive. Feel free to check down here for as long as you like, but I’ve been here for hours. I was at the fourth level when I saw your jeeps arrive.”

Lydia turned to her. “No, we’ll go up. I don’t want to waste any more time. We can double check everything if we’re sure we won’t be able to find something up there.” She turned to Stiles. “And Stiles, radio the others about this, would you?”

“Do you have photos of the other levels?” Stiles asked as they headed for the stairs.

Kira nodded. “Yep. I left my gear upstairs.”

By the time they reached the fourth level and updated the rest of the crew, Lydia was starting to get antsy. The entire temple was too barren, too plain. There were no frescoes or murals detailing the walls or floors, no sculptures guarding the entrances or exits, only an abundance of fireplaces and endless stone and rock pockmarked with air holes. The fourth level was divided into two for each of the Kingdoms’ rulers, and after investigating one wing, Lydia couldn’t help but curse.

“We are not getting anywhere,” Lydia muttered.

“How about we look at a bird’s eye view of the room?” Kira suggested. “If these walls could talk, they’d tell you all about how I’ve been pawing all this rock for hours now. If you guys take a look, you might notice something I missed.” She took out the tablet she brought with her and showed them the photos she had taken around the temple.

“The faster we find the clue, the better.” Stiles sat down beside her and together the two of them started combing through photo after photo.

Lydia took a break and sat down across from them. She grabbed a water bottle and took a swig.

Both sides of the temple’s fourth level were mirror images, similarly bare and decorated sparsely. The only distinction each side had was who used it. The eastern side was used by the Nincans, to symbolize the sun rising in the east. The western side was for the Tantians, made for those who celebrated the sun’s setting in the west. Two sets of round stone tables were on opposite sides of the room and surrounded by slabs of stone seats. One corner had dividing walls with a stone slab inside, most likely to serve as a bed and room of sorts for the ruler. The only prominent feature of the room was the humongous fireplace, large enough for five to six people to stand side by side at full height, with its chimney stretching up to the ceiling. All of the fireplaces in the temple, including all the other smaller ones in the lower levels, had connecting chimney flues, so if they were all used at the same time, they usually ended up with a thick cloud of smoke billowing from the summit of the temple. According to records, rival kingdoms usually took this as a warning sign that both kingdoms were conspiring together. And if the Nincans and Tantians were planning something together, that meant one thing – people were going to die and kingdoms were going to fall.

Lydia, Stiles and Kira had only inspected one side so far, and if the other side was this barren, Lydia was getting really, really annoyed and challenged by this mystery. Because honestly, how the hell could the Tantians hide something _here_? Here, where even the Nincans might notice any glaring signs of the Tantians being up to something. Tantians weren’t exactly known for subtlety. Riddles and puzzles, yes, but even those were a smack to the face with their murals and an underground well that would have most likely drowned foolish treasure seekers. Something elegantly subtle wasn’t going to cut it.

Unless… you know… the answer was staring them right smack in the face.

“Stiles, Kira, can I see those?”

Stiles glanced at her, immediately knowing something was up.

“Sure,” Kira said. “What do you want to see?”

“Show me the two largest fireplaces side by side,” Lydia said and took two of Kira’s tablets, looking between one fireplace and the other. They were completely, ridiculously identical. “Were these photos taken on the same scale?”

Kira nodded. “From the same distance and the same point of view as much as I could make it. I wanted to be able to compare them to scale.” She shrugged. “Though considering the fact that both of them are mirror images of each other, I wonder why I even took different photos.”

Lydia thought maybe the fireplaces might give her a physical clue, but based on the photos, both of them were very similar, not an inch of rock out of place. And in a roundabout way that in itself was a clue.

“We’re looking at it all wrong,” Lydia spoke up. “Part of the reason the Temple of Harawo is both momentous and boring is because everything looks so plain and straightforward from two Kingdoms who were well-renowned to be very expressive and extravagant. The Tantians in particular aren’t known for being subtle. So if–”

 Their discussion was suddenly derailed as Stiles and Lydia’s comms fizzled to life.

 _“We’ve got company,”_ Jackson said. _“South side. I spot one jeep, but it’s red.”_

Fuck. Their jeeps were green, while Daron’s jeeps were black.

“What the hell?” Stiles cursed. “Daehler and his group got here before Daron?”

Kira was already making a call. Lydia grabbed the pair of binoculars from Kira’s pack and glanced outside. She couldn’t see far, but what she could see was a cloud of dust. Someone was obviously on their way.

“Jackson, Scott, be careful. Make sure they don’t spot you,” Stiles said. “That’s Daehler’s group.”

“Dammit.” Kira pocketed her phone. “Derek and the others are on their way followed by Jennifer’s other jeep. Turns out they had the same idea to split up. That damn bitch has got spies everywhere.”

“We have to hurry,” Stiles said, getting back to the matter at hand. “We either find the clue now or we’ll never find it, not with those people breathing down our necks. Lydia, do you have an idea where it could be?”

Lydia resumed her earlier thought. “If I were a Tantian, with no chance of building something excessive as a sign of my game, where’s the next best thing I could I hide the clue? I’d find a way to hide it in the only obvious place.”

Kira jerked upright, gaze falling on the biggest thing in the room. “I already checked the fireplace.”

“Yes, but did you climb it?” Lydia asked, getting a little bit more excited.

Stiles was immediately moving. He grabbed a flashlight from his backpack and then ducked inside the fireplace, shining a light up the chimney flue. Kira bounded after him to look up too.

Stiles’ voice was awed when he spoke, “It’s just like the underground well. There are rocks here that are good for handholds and footholds.”

“But they’re pretty high up. Dammit.” Kira cursed. “I don’t think I can reach it even if I stand on Stiles’ shoulders.”

Their radios fizzled to life.

 _“Guys, the red jeep’s reached the edge of the temple grounds,”_ Jackson reported. _“What’s the plan?”_

Stiles hissed under his breath. He looked up at the chimney. “We need to climb up.”

“Wait,” Lydia waved a hand. “How do we even know which one is the right fireplace? We’ve got two chimneys and one medallion.”

“Which wing are we in now?” Stiles asked Kira.

“This is the west wing, the Tantian wing,” Kira replied. “Think it’s up there?”

Stiles bit his lip. “I don’t know. My first instinct is that it’s too obvious to have it here, but then again the Tantians might not have had the opportunity to sneak the clue into the Nincans’ wing.”

Kira grabbed Stiles’ hand, eyes lighting up with an idea. “Remember the stories? When all the fireplaces are lit up, it creates a thick smoke at the summit. The chimney flues are all connected.”

“Wait. Wait. Wait.” Lydia gaped at her. “You want us to climb up and down _through_ the chimney flues!” She would do almost anything for this mission, but she wasn’t going to kill herself for it. “Are you insane? We don’t know what the inside is like! At worst, that’s like a four level drop from here to the first level!”

Kira was confident. “I’m a climber. I’ve got this.” She ran off to grab her tablets and camera and her backpack. She pulled out a long length of rope and a climbing hook and then started making knots. “I’ll need some help getting my rig up there, but I think I’ve got enough rope to help us climb through.”

“I’ve got some more in my pack,” Stiles said, running to his backpack.

 _“Guys, what’s the plan?”_ This time it was Isaac who suddenly hissed from the comms. _“Why is no one talking?”_

 _“I can see them,”_ Scott joined in. _“We’ve got their boss lady, Daehler, and one of the twins here. What do we do?”_

Stiles handed Kira the rest of the rope and Lydia could only watch as the petite woman started making knots and hooks. She worked quick and steady.

“Everyone keep quiet,” Lydia said the comms to stop them talking. “Turn all communicators and phones silent. Wait for my text message.”

It was taking a long time, but Lydia didn’t think to rush her. When Kira was finally satisfied, she hooked a few of the knots together and then handed Stiles an end.

“You’re tallest. Swing that up to a rock and hopefully it’ll hold.”

Stiles geared up and tossed the rope. It didn’t even reach the rock.

“Shit, higher,” Lydia muttered.

Stiles tried again. He managed to get it higher, but still not enough to reach the rock. The rock wasn’t just high up, but while the fireplace was large enough for them to climb through, the flue was just that tight enough that Stiles couldn’t swing the rope as wide and high as he could.

Lydia left them to it for the moment and slowly and quietly snuck towards the doorway. The massive staircase that spiraled from the bottom to the top was the only way up and down, unless of course you were crazy enough to scale the ledges and steeps of the temple’s exterior. She crouched low, close to the stairs and tried to quiet her pounding heart.

She almost jumped when she felt her phone suddenly vibrate in her pocket. She pulled it out. It was Jackson who had sent a message.

_‘Twin’s at level 1. Daehler & woman headed to level 4.’_

“Dammit.” Lydia moved back slowly towards Kira and Stiles, the latter of whom was still trying to sling the rope up a rock.

“Two of them are on their way up,” she said as Stiles rubbed away the sweat on his face.

“Shit.” Stiles took a deep breath. He let out a grunt and swung his arm up. He finally managed to catch the rope on a rock.

Kira tugged the rope and then hung from it for a few seconds, satisfied when it didn’t slip off. She hefted her pack up her back. “You’ve both got gloves. You’ll be able to make the climb. Come on and–”

“Here’s the plan,” Stiles suddenly said. “Kira, take Lydia with you.”

“What? / Excuse me?” They both gaped at him.

Stiles had his hands out, placating, and talked fast. “They know Kira’s here, so at most they’re going to be expecting _somebody_. We need a diversion to give you girls enough time to search the chimneys if the clue really is in there. Not to mention I’m heavier than you both and it’s going to make climbing the ropes and sneaking around up there so much harder for all three of us. It’s better if I stay behind to keep them talking.”

Lydia wanted to punch Stiles in the face. “Stiles, this is crazy! They might shoot you!”

Kira looked nervous, also seeming to understand just how determined Stiles was. “Stiles, I agree with Lydia. I know those people. This isn’t something you can talk your way out of.”

Suddenly, there was a loud thump somewhere followed by the sound of voices.

Stiles started herding them towards the fireplace. He also buried one of his guns inside his backpack and tucked his other gun in his waistband where it wouldn’t be noticeable. “They don’t know that we heard their plans. All they’re expecting is Kira. That gives us an advantage. So long as I play dumb, we’ve got an ace.” He turned to Lydia and Lydia couldn’t help feeling pained. “Lydia, tell everyone the plan. Make sure Jackson and Scott don’t mess up. Now, go!”

 “Stiles, this is insane!” Lydia hissed. She ignored Kira who finally started climbing up, limber and quick.

Lydia suddenly felt a frisson of fear, as if this might be the last time she’d see her friend.

Stiles kissed her cheek and gave her a serious look. “Lydia, go.”

“Come on, Lydia,” Kira whispered.

Lydia looked at Stiles one last time before she started to climb. She climbed up the rope high enough and Kira pulled up the rest of the rope just in time before Lydia heard the telltale murmur of voices and steps. She tried to quiet her heaving breaths and sent Kira a wide-eyed look of panic.

_Stiles._

“Well, well, well…” they heard a woman’s voice, tone far too light to be just casual, “Who do we have here?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **References:**  
>  [1] Fun fact: The Sun only rises due east and sets due west on 2 days of the year - the spring and fall equinoxes. On other days, the Sun rises either north or south of ‘due east’ and sets north or south of ‘due west.’ Each day the rising and setting points change slightly. ([source](http://solar-center.stanford.edu/AO/sunrise.html))
> 
> [2] The idea of Harawo, a solitary structure in the middle of the desert, was inspired by the [Hand of the Desert](https://theculturetrip.com/south-america/chile/articles/10-things-to-know-before-visiting-the-hand-of-the-desert-chile/) (or Mano del Desierto) found in the Atacama Desert, Chile.
> 
> [3] Hopefully I was able to articulate the idea of a maze well enough in the story, but if you guys need some help visualizing what’s going to happen, it’s a little something like [this](https://www.fixmyroof.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2014/03/Chimney-flue-construction.jpg).


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With about a dozen guns being waved around, someone was bound to get shot.

At the back of Stiles’ mind, his only thought was: _oh shit._

See, it wasn’t like Stiles was looking for trouble. He didn’t want to make enemies, and he definitely didn’t want to drown, get shot, chase after ancient civilizations, or face down mercenaries.

It just… you know… happened?

So here he was, with his brains, some guns and supplies, and a half-cocked plan that depended entirely on his friends climbing around the claustrophobic chimney flues of an ancient barren temple.

In another light, this might have been hilarious.

Right now, though? It definitely wasn’t.

“Well, well, well…” the woman named Jennifer Blake tutted lightly, “Who do we have here?”

She was beautiful and graceful, not the kind of woman you’d see journeying through the hot, raging desert. And that was what made warning bells rang loudly in Stiles’ head. Most people would attempt to fit in and seem invisible amidst the local scenery and its people. This woman wasn’t even trying. That meant she was skilled and doubly confident enough that she didn’t need to hide anything to get what she wanted.

“Who are you?” Stiles asked, trying to interject just the right amount of suspicion in his voice. His gaze landed behind the woman. “Hey, you’re the guy in the restaurant!”

Matt Daehler looked just as suspicious and smarmy as the first time Stiles saw him that first time, suddenly inserting himself in their private conversation and earning Erica’s ire and almost getting a knife in his hand. Right now, he looked a little less cocky in Jennifer’s presence, but definitely still as sleazy as before.

“We’ve been looking for you. Hello, Stiles.”

That made Stiles jolt and he turned to Jennifer. He didn’t have to hide his surprise that Jennifer knew his name. In hindsight, Matt probably gave her information about all of them. But it was still incredibly disconcerting to hear his name from a woman that he was pretty sure was going to shoot him and his friends.

“Who are you?” Stiles asked, glaring at her.

“My name is Julia Baccari,” she said. “I’m a member of Cairo’s CID, Criminal Investigation Division. We’ve been looking for you.”

Stiles let his suspicion show on his face and scrutinized her. She had on a leather jacket, jeans and sturdy boots. She had a holster around her thigh and one around her waist including a belt bag. Aside from those, he couldn’t see any other weapons on her, though that belt bag was probably full of bullets and who knew what trinkets. Stiles was glad his gun was concealed in his waistband and backpack. In this case he had to look like a civilian and Daron’s prisoner.

“You don’t look like police,” he said, chin jutting out defiantly.

Jennifer chuckled, shaking her head, the perfect image of wry amusement. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard that.”

She reached into her back pocket and flashed him a badge, though she didn’t hand it to him. But Stiles was a policeman’s kid. He knew that badge was legit just as he was sure that she could have just as easily stolen that off of someone.

“Several days ago, a break in was reported at the Cairo National Museum, said to have been done by members of the notorious treasure hunting group known as Daron. Along with ransacking a museum, witnesses claimed they kidnapped three civilians, Stiles Stilinski, Allison Argent, and Dr. Carnahan’s nephew, Isaac Lahey.”

Oh, but she was good, really good. She spoke firmly and succinctly, the way most detectives did. Stiles had heard a lot of uniformed men speak, including his Dad. If he had to guess, this woman definitely had some form of training, maybe even a service background.

“How did you get here? How did you find me?” Stiles was careful not to indicate that there was more than one of them around. He glared at Matt. “And why are you here? Last we talked, you called us crazy and stupid for believing in Oran Juhor. What a hypocrite.”

Matt looked damn offended at that, mouth opening to fire back, but Jennifer smoothly took over.

“Mister Daehler here reported sighting three more of your friends leaving Cairo. I thought of bringing him along to help, and as it turns out, the reward money isn’t probably half bad, eh?”

She cast Matt a slightly disdainful look over his own head, then raised her eyebrows tellingly at Stiles. It was an expression of exasperation, obviously a ploy to win sympathy, and if Stiles hadn’t known about her, he would have definitely been won over. Speech, body language, and facial expression, everything was just the perfect touch of a stranger and a confidante you could trust.

Jennifer was damn good.

“Matt, go down. Tell Aiden to radio the police. Tell them we found one of the kidnapped civilians.”

Matt jerked in surprise. “What? Wait! Why can’t I go check the other hall with you?”

If Stiles wasn’t so hyper alert, he probably wouldn’t have noticed the minute twitch of annoyance in Jennifer’s brow, but he was, so he did.

“Matt. I gave you your orders. Go down. Now,” she said, voice mild but heavy with meaning.

“Fine.” Matt scowled. He gave Stiles an odd look before leaving, grumbling under his breath.

Stiles wasn’t fooled. He was trapped with the woman, and she looked like she could and would shoot him in a heartbeat if he made just the slightest mistake.

“How did you find me?” Stiles asked, trying to appear more relaxed and relieved, which was damn hard as hell considering how stressed out he was. He thought the question might shake her, but Jennifer was ready.

“We received reports from the nearby town of Htes of a sighting of one of Daron’s jeeps,” she said. “We already have a team scouting the town so when we asked them of any other nearby locations or landmarks out here, this was where they pointed us to. Good thing we got here quickly. So far we haven’t seen any of Daron, so I’m just relieved we saw you, and so will Dr. Carnahan once we report this.” She smiled and stepped into the room.

“Thank you,” Stiles said, stepping forward. He was unsure on what to do. This wasn’t good. Jennifer couldn’t go deeper into the room or else she might check the fireplace. Bad enough Stiles was standing a little too close and might obviously be shielding it. He decided to wing it. He needed to give Kira and Lydia more time, but he had to be careful of what he said.

He walked towards her, slowly, trying to look relieved at being ‘rescued.’

“It’s just me in the tower. I don’t know where the others are. They left me here and told me to take photos, something about documenting everything? They don’t tell me much and they don’t talk a lot when we’re in the same room or anywhere close with them.” To be safe, he showed them the bag and the tablet, though he packed it in the bag quickly, lest she took the items or saw something.

“I see,” Jennifer drawled, looking around. “So it’s just you here.”

Stiles nodded. “I think so. I don’t really know where they went. All they said was to take photos and sit tight for about an hour.” He hoped that was enough time for Lydia and Kira. He hoped they heard him.

“An hour.” She checked her watch. “And did they say where they were going?”

“…I don’t know.” Stiles couldn’t get a read on her. “I’ve been up and down the temple and… and they have my friends. I didn’t want to disobey them or else…”

Jennifer held up her hands, soothing and friendly. “Say no more. I get it. And it’s fine. Don’t worry. We’ll help you. That’s what I’m here for.”

“W-what do we do now? And what about my friends?” he asked, curious how she planned to play this charade.

“Best thing we can do for now is wait them out. There’s only me, my assistant, and Matt here so we’ll have to wait for backup.” She stepped back towards the doorway, much to Stiles’ relief. “Come on. I didn’t have time to look around as much, but I think it’s best if I’m thorough. And I suggest you head on down. You’ll see one of my junior partners there. His name’s Aiden.”

Stiles hesitated. He didn’t want to be close to the woman, but he needed to remain close in case they needed a diversion. “I’ll come with you, please, if that’s okay, Officer? After what happened, I don’t really want to be alone now that I found rescue. And honestly, I don’t trust Matt.”

That got a genuine look of amusement from her. “Of course. Come on, Stiles.” She offered a hand. “I’m just really glad you’re okay.”

Despite his initial instinct to recoil, Stiles reached out, trying to radiate relief and thankfulness. And he was also thankful he was wearing gloves to hide his sweaty palms. They shook hands. “Thank you, Officer.”

Jennifer looked around. “I guess there’s not much to see here anyway. Let’s check the other room and then we’ll go down. I’m going to have to revise my plan here. I wasn’t expecting you.”

Stiles really had to admire her acting and preparedness. She managed to come off as a skilled professional and yet an empathetic character. Once their group and Daron all managed to sit down together and talk about this whole treasure hunting business, he was going to ask them just who the hell this woman was.

Stiles nodded and followed after, clutching the backpack to himself.

Jennifer noticed that. “Do you need help, Stiles? I do apologize. I should have had Matt bring it down to my partner.”

Stiles shook his head, trying to seem a little distressed. “No, it’s fine, Officer. I’m also… I just… they told me to take care of their equipment or else…”

Julia nodded. “Okay. I see. Maybe it’s best you keep those close. Those Daron tend to be…” her face darkened, “Unpredictable.”

They walked down the hall, Stiles following a few steps behind. She didn’t seem hesitant to show him her back. She possibly still thought he didn’t understand what was happening. Stiles could use that to his advantage.

“Those, um, Daron, who are they?” he asked. “They didn’t really tell us much. Mostly they told us to be quiet and keep our heads down or else.”

Jennifer was silent for a moment, before speaking, “They’ve been a thorn in the side of this country’s historians and archaeologists for ages. They have a fascination with ancient treasures and artifacts and have been stealing them, like they have a right to own those.”

Well, Stiles mused, Daron did claim ownership, just like that medallion, but there seemed to be a story behind that.

“But why?” he asked. “Those are supposed to be in museums and displayed for their historical purposes, not stolen or sold.”

Jennifer looked back at him, nodding. “I agree. As a student of history and archaeology, I can just imagine how outraged you probably feel. They’re especially fascinated with the Kingdom of Tanti which I expect was part of their interest in yourself and Professor Carnahan’s nephew.”

They reached the other room and Stiles couldn’t help the slight flare of panic when he glanced at the fireplace. However, it looked undisturbed and there were no signs of a rope or his friends.

“Who are they, though?” Stiles asked. “They didn’t really introduce themselves but, uh, I heard their leader’s name was–”

“Derek, Derek Hale,” Jennifer said, her shoulders stiffening somewhat. She crouched down and swept a hand across the sand, dirt and dust on the stone floor. She looked around and started making a circuit of the room. “Not much is known about the man, but if rumors are to be believed, he used to be a student like you before the allure of treasures became too much to handle. Those people with him are people he’s… shall we say, _collected_ ; each of them with just as fucked up histories.”

 “They didn’t seem… er… fucked up?” Stiles asked, curious beyond belief. “I mean, dangerous, yes, but they didn’t look especially… villainous.”

“Looks can be deceiving.” Jennifer inspected the window holes. “Some of them have been in jail. Some of them have killed, including their leader. So make no mistake. They are killers and thieves, looters and criminals, untrustworthy and savage.”

Stiles couldn’t help twitching. Well, that was laying it on thick.

Jennifer was getting closer and closer to the fireplace and Stiles started thinking of a diversion. If she even got the slightest hint of looking up, who knew if Lydia and Kira were shuffling around up there.

Jennifer got close.

“Officer,” Stiles shuffled forward, “Officer, I–”

Stiles suddenly tripped in his haste and dropped his backpack, some of the items tumbling out of his bag – a tablet, some matches, his communicator, an extra length of rope, and a water bottle.

“Stiles, are you okay?” Jennifer halted her progress to the fireplace and moved towards him instead.

“Sorry, Officer. I got a bit… er… nervous?” Stiles scrambled to get everything inside his bag.

“It’s all right, Stiles. So long as I’m here. You have nothing to worry about,” Jennifer said soothingly. She smiled kindly, and she really was beautiful. But her threats against Professor Evy, Isaac, and all of them was still clear in Stiles’ head.

She crouched down and helped him gather his things, the tablet, the matches, an extra pair of gloves, and the communicator. Stiles was relieved his gun didn’t tumble out.

Suddenly, there was the buzz of something vibrating. Jennifer pulled out her phone from her pocket and answered it.

“What is it?” she paused, only to jolt. “What? Where?”

She looked over Stiles’ shoulders towards the window hole and on reflex Stiles turned around to look. Jennifer passed by him and looked out over the horizon.

Stiles hastened to hide his things, tucking his gloves, tablet, matches and rope in his bag before joining her. His eyes widened when he realized what it was. He could clearly see two green jeeps driving towards the temple at full speed, while a third jeep, this one red, was right on its tail.

“What the hell are they up to,” Jennifer muttered. “Stay back, Stiles. This is probably by Kira’s doing. She might have told them that my team and I are here.”

Stiles froze momentarily, only to slowly take a few steps back, pressing himself close to the far side of the room. At this point, with the cavalry coming and the enemy closing in, Stiles had no choice.

“Officer Jennifer?”

She paused from radioing someone. “Yes, Stiles?”

“I never told you which Daron member left me here.”

Jennifer was still for moment, before she turned to him, expression amused. “Ah, well, that’s fine, Stiles. After all, I introduced myself as Julia. I didn’t tell you my real name is Jennifer.”

She grinned, face suddenly transforming into something feral and mean, raised her gun, and fired.

 

 

* * *

 

They heard the sound of gunshot and Lydia almost let out a scream, were it not for Kira suddenly slapping a palm over her mouth.

They had just inspected the chimney of the fireplace in the Nincan room where Stiles and that Jennifer woman were, and were just about to start making their way down to the fireplaces in the third level. They could still hear most of Stiles and Jennifer’s conversation, including the woman’s slip up about Kira and Stiles’ just as accidental slip.

And then someone fired a shot, the sound of it coming through the fireplace and bouncing around the stone surrounding them.

“Stiles,” she whimpered.

The inside of the chimney flue was actually a lot wider than Lydia expected, certainly large enough to fit a grown person. Once they got through that and reached the main flue system that connected all of the fireplaces from the first level to the summit, the tunnel-like system stretched even wider and deeper. There were wider ledges that served as ladders of sorts and allowed them to climb around quickly. Kira was still careful though, securing ropes at every few ledges they climbed down.

“Lydia?”

Lydia turned to Kira, who had taken her hand away and managed to balance neatly on a ledge like a graceful cat or an agile fox.

“Lydia, snap out of it,” she said. Her face looked grim, but she tried to look hopeful. “There’s nothing we can do for now. Stiles is smart and quick. He’ll… he’ll have found a way. But we still have a job to do. We have to get this clue out of here to the others.”

Or else what Stiles did would have been in vain. She didn’t have to say it, Lydia knew.

Lydia rubbed her face against her sleeve, steeling herself. They weren’t out of the woods yet. She swallowed her fear and continued climbing.

“What’s the plan?” she asked. She didn’t feel steady enough to make decisions.

“Safest bet is to climb down,” Kira said. “The fourth level has two fireplaces. The third level has five. So long as we manage to get down and find a clear fireplace to get out of, we’ll be able to move better. It’s not good for us to get stuck in these chimneys.” She held out a hand to Lydia.

“You with me?”

Lydia nodded and grasped her hand tightly for a moment. “Yes.”

Together, they climbed down as quietly and as quickly as they dared. At one point, Lydia almost slipped, had Kira not grabbed her arm. She scrambled after Kira, who lowered herself expertly and neatly down every ledge.

Kira paused, closing her eyes for a moment. “If I’m right, we’re in one of the fireplaces at the opposite side from where Stiles was. We might be able to go down without seeing any–”

Suddenly, the olden rock gave way beneath Kira’s feet. She couldn’t help the loud yelp and only just managed to grab onto the rope lest she went crashing right down onto the third level. Lydia immediately grabbed the other end, thanking her lucky stars for the gloves as the rope snapped taut. The piece of splintered rock Kira used to be stepping on fell to the ground with a loud _thunk_.

A voice suddenly hissed. “What the hell was that?”

Shit, Lydia hissed in her head. Shit shit shit. That was Matt.

Kira whimpered. “Help.”

Lydia grabbed Kira’s hand, straining as she tried to pull her up. They had to climb back up and hide in the next bend so that Matt won’t see them if he looked up the inside of the chimney.

“What the hell was that? Who’s there?”

There was the unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked. Lydia had to bite back a grunt as she managed to get a hand around Kira’s forearm. The woman was petite and light, but Lydia wasn’t really all that strong. She dug her boots in and pulled Kira up.

“What the… Where did that come from?” Matt sounded like he was already below them.

Lydia just managed to grab Kira’s arms and was pulling her just up and over when the yelling started.

“I SEE YOU!”

Lydia grunted and pulled with all her might. Just in time too as they suddenly heard gunshot, the sound of it deafening in the cramped, echoing space of the chimney system. Kira and Lydia clamped their hands over their ears.

“They’re in the fireplaces!” Matt started shooting and shouting. “Jennifer! I saw that fox bitch in the fireplace!”

Matt eventually ran out of bullets.

“Kira, climb down! Lydia shouted back down for Matt to hear, but she and Kira nodded to one another and started crawling towards another fireplace in the same third level. They had to keep pushing Jennifer and Matt down to ground level where the others were or else they’d get stuck at the top levels with no way out.

They finally found a vacated fireplace and climbed down. They could still hear some distant shouting and shooting, but if they didn’t go down now, they were just going to get stuck here.

Lydia couldn’t help taking a deep breath of relatively fresher air once they managed to get out of those flues. She only realized now just how claustrophobic she actually felt inside those tunnels. They moved closer to the wide window holes, one eye trained on the doorway.

“Okay,” Kira muttered as she quickly packed away the ropes and hooks. “Daron is down there and your friends are too. This is our chance to–”

Someone suddenly grabbed Lydia from the back, a wide hand clamping itself around her mouth. She started struggling and Kira scrambled for her gun.

“It’s me,” someone hissed.

Lydia immediately deflated in relief. She turned around and wrapped an arm around him. “Scott!”

Scott was crouching on the wide window. He returned the hug, but also started furiously whispering.

“Everything’s gone to shit out here! What the fuck is going on?” he tugged on Lydia’s arm. “And get out here. That crazy Daehler guy was running around here earlier, shooting stuff.” He motioned for them to follow him.

Lydia climbed up the window’s edge to see that Scott was on the wide ledge surrounding the outside of the temple and divided it into each level. Scott helped her down while Kira easily hefted herself over, backpack included. Scott motioned for them to keep close to the walls and started hustling down the ledge. They followed after him, keeping their heads down and away from the window holes, until Scott stopped at a safe corner. They had a wall of stone on one side and air, sand, and a fall to one’s death on the other. How charming.

“What’s happening?” Lydia asked, now that they have time to breathe.

Scott made a face. “Daron came. They’re in a shootout with the others from the red jeep. I can’t find Jackson or Stiles, and I can’t contact Isaac or Ally.”

Kira already had her communicator out and was making calls.

“Daron, this is K. Come in. / Daron, this is K. Who’s manning comms? / Daron, this is K. Am I getting through to anyone?”

Finally, the radio fizzled to life and a man’s voice came on.

_“Kira, I got you. Where are you? Are you okay?”_

Kira sighed with so much relief. “Derek, hey. I’m here with Lydia and Scott. We’re on the third level. We’ve got the clue.”

_“That’s great. But I’m honestly just fucking relieved you’re all okay.”_

Kira glanced at Lydia. “Derek, Stiles got left behind. We’re looking for him, but he… he set himself up as a distraction against Jennifer.”

“What?” Scott gaped, but he was drowned out by Derek cursing loudly and vehemently.

_“Fuck. I’ll try and get in there, but we’re boxed in and they’re guarding the main entrance. We–_

BANG!

Lydia screamed. They whipped around.  Matt was leaning out of the side windows, gun held out, and aiming at them. He fired once more, but he had a wobbly perch on the window hole and couldn’t seem to get a good shot.

Kira was fast though. She grabbed her gun and fired back. One shot clipped Matt’s hand, and he yelped and ducked back inside.

“Go, go, go!” Scott immediately directed them down the ledge.

“We’re going to fall off,” Lydia protested.

Scott shook his head. “While you were all inside, Jackson and I checked the outside. There’s a part of the outside of the temple’s third level that collapsed. We’ll be able to scale it down to the second level.”

“We’re _still_ going to fall off!” Lydia protested even more.

“Do you have a better idea?” Scott asked.

Another shot rang and they all yelped and ducked. Lydia looked back. Matt wasn’t brave enough to get out on the ledge like them, so he was peeking out at window holes to get closer to them.

“I’d rather scale the outside at this rate,” Kira muttered. “Come on!” They followed after Scott.

Lydia eventually realized what Scott meant as they rounded a corner of the temple’s ledge. A section of the ledge seemed to have collapsed in on itself, maybe from time and the harsh desert elements, but it wasn’t enough to create an opening or a cave-in inside the temple. What did happen was that it created a sunken section of rock that turned the usually steep edge of the temple into a more manageable climb. Kira got out her rope once more and immediately set to work trying to create a line for them to scale. Scott provided cover, ready to shoot Matt and his annoying head. Fortunately, they ended at a good corner a bit far away from any nearby windows where Matt could see them.

“This is as good as it’s going to get,” Kira grunted, tugging hard.

Kira went first as the most adept climber out of them. She lowered herself down easily using the rope as a guide. Lydia followed, trying to step where Kira had and trying hard not to look down. Thankfully, the sunken rocks were sturdy and flat and it wasn’t too hard to climb down. She could hear the distant sounds of gunshot and shouting, but that was at the other side of the temple where Daron was.

Lydia wobbled a little, but Kira grabbed her by the waist and helped her down on the second level ledge. They weren’t as high up as they were when they were up on the third level, but it was still quite the fall to ground level. Together, they helped Scott down.

“We’re going to have to get inside,” Scott said. “This side of the temple is ruined and the ledges are a little narrow in places. There’s no other way but in.”

They carefully walked across the ledge and climbed inside one of the wide window holes.

Lydia couldn’t help pulling out her communicator. Stiles was still up there, shot and bleeding or worse. She opened her mouth, about to ask how they plan to help Stiles, when somebody shot at them. They scrambled around, ducking behind some of the pillars that dotted the area. Lydia kept a hold of Scott’s arm as they ducked behind a wide pillar.

“Come out, you fox bitch!” Matt shouted.

Lydia looked around. The second level was wide, and had more hallways and pillars to hide behind. For now, they were safe. From the corner of her eye, she noticed Kira behind another pillar a few feet away. She pulled out her gun and what looked like a few knives from her backpack. When there was a lull from Matt, she leaned out from behind the pillar, threw a knife and then started firing.

“Lydia, you okay?”

She ignored that and grabbed his arm. “Scott, we have to go back up. We have to find Stiles.”

More shots rang and they noticed Kira dart out from behind a pillar to duck behind another.

“Move!” she shouted at them. “Move or else you’re going to get–” She yelped when a shot rang too close, hitting the pillar just close to her ear.

Scott cursed under his breath, leaned out and started shooting.

Lydia gripped her communicator. With a prayer on her lips, she tried to dial Stiles’ communicator. She yelped when Scott grabbed her, pulling her to duck behind a different pillar and down the hall as Kira provided them cover.

She tripped in surprise when she realized she could hear the communicator’s telltale ring.

“Did you hear that? That’s one of our comms.” She scrambled to her feet, pulling away from Scott and darting around the hallway. She answered the call. “Stiles? Stiles, are you–”

Lydia immediately found herself standing at one end of a long hallway with Jennifer standing all the way at the other end. The woman raised her gun.

“Get down!”

Lydia ducked just as Jennifer and somebody behind her started shooting. A strong arm grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her along around the bend for cover.

“Damn it.” Derek hissed as they crouched down on the ground. “You okay?”

“Derek.” Lydia gripped his arm. “I am not leaving until we find Stiles.”

“I know.” He grunted. “But we’ve got to get Jennifer and Matt out of the–”

The gunshots suddenly stopped and there followed an eerie silence. Derek’s face turned grim.

“Derek, so nice of you to join us, darling,” Jennifer called out.

Derek didn’t respond, reloading his gun instead. Lydia peeked around the bend, only to duck back around.

“She’s coming here,” Lydia whispered to Derek, who nodded.

“You do know that this little treasure hunt of yours is futile, don’t you? None of those belong to you, dear,” Jennifer called out.

“Nor you, you bitch!” They heard Kira shout.

“What is she talking about?” Lydia asked.

Jennifer continued, ignoring Kira’s outburst. “Continue this and all of you will die, or give us what we want and only most of you will die.”

Scott couldn’t help piping up. “That isn’t the least bit reassuring!”

Kira was quick to decline. “Either way, you’re likely to kill Derek! So fuck off, bitch!”

Jennifer kept talking. “And I see you’ve teamed up with those students. I’m not surprised. Are you also going to drag them into your fruitless search, Derek? The same way you’ve dragged the rest of your motley crew. They’ll be in good company – the most damaged, the most delusional–”

“Lady, you talk too much.”

Lydia knew that voice.

“Jackson!” Lydia gasped and peeked around the corner just in time to see Jackson pop out from the corner and shoot Jennifer in the left arm. She let out a yell and ducked for cover. Matt suddenly appeared and started shooting, but Kira and Scott fired back.

Lydia ignored them all because she gasped once more when she realized what, or who, Jackson had with him.

“Stiles!”

Jackson had an arm around an unconscious Stiles and grunted heavily as he dragged the man with him. Derek darted forward and immediately grabbed Stiles before he and Jackson could crash to the ground.

Lydia rushed forward. She placed a palm on Jackson’s cheek. He was sweaty and heaving and… covered in blood.

“Were you shot?” she gasped.

Jackson grinned through his wheezing. “You know… at this point… I’m not sure…” His face turned grim. “But Stiles is. He’s bleeding somewhere. I can’t see where. And he hit his head.”

“What the hell happened?” Lydia asked as she turned to Derek, who was lowering Stiles down on the ground.

Jackson took a breath. “I was watching out for Stilinski out on the fourth floor ledge, trying to get a clear shot of Jennifer, when she and Stiles dropped the ball and started shooting one another. I just barely managed to cover for him, pull him out the fourth floor ledge, and then try not to get shot myself. I don’t think I managed to save him from getting hit though.” He winced.

Derek was checking Stiles over. “It’s fine. He’s still alive, but we all have to get out of here. Jennifer and her goons are trigger happy and they’ve got enough ammo to kill us. We have to move.”

Jackson grinned and grabbed his gun. Lydia nodded and kept her gun ready. She wasn’t much of a shot, but she’d be a fool not to try.

Derek kept one arm around Stiles, gun at the ready. “Leave Stiles to me for now. I’m fresh. I can carry him quicker. We need to get down and in the jeeps quickly.”

They nodded. Derek grinned back.

“Kira, we’re moving!” Derek called out.

The grin was evident in Kira’s voice. “I was just waiting on you, boss.”

Lydia followed Jackson and they darted around the corner quickly, guns out and firing. Kira and Scott appeared at her shoulder, reloaded and ready. Derek and Stiles took the rear, with Derek making sure to keep Stiles away from the danger. Jennifer retreated quickly enough and Matt followed in the absence of backup, so they managed to scramble to the first level with ease. Though once they got there, they ended up right in the middle of the shootout.

Boyd, Danny and Erica were managing to hold their own against that other woman, the twins, and the mountain man. Matt was nowhere to be found. Lydia spotted Jennifer by one of their red jeeps, her left arm hanging limp as she shot at Boyd and Danny with her right.

Erica spotted them. “Derek!” She shouted from behind one of Daron’s jeeps. She flinched back when one of the twins shot at her. “Oh, drop dead, you motherfu…” she trailed off and grabbed an honest to god heavy knife the length of her forearm. With a fierce yell, she swung and tossed it, completely breaking through one of the red jeep’s windshields.

“Oh, damn,” Scott gaped, while Jackson whistled appreciatively.

Lydia ignored them and concentrated on how to get out. Derek seemed to have realized the same thing she did.

“We’re too far from the jeeps,” he hissed.

“Shit.” Lydia grabbed her communicator. Before she could call for reinforcements, they heard the loud roar of an engine. One of their black jeeps rounded the corner with a screech of wheels, and Isaac appeared, guns blazing. Before anybody could move, a barrage of bullets from out of nowhere started hitting Jennifer and company and their red jeeps, making windows shatter and tires flatten.

Isaac immediately parked the jeeps close enough to the entrance while giving them just enough cover from the onslaught of bullets. He kicked his door open.

“Get in! Ally’s keeping cover!”

Scott waved a hand at them. “Lydia, go! And take Stiles!”

“Come on! Get in the back with Stiles!” Lydia grabbed Derek and the two of them and an unconscious Stiles hobbled into the jeep. Before the door could even close behind Lydia, Isaac was already peeling away.

“Jackson’s military grade sniper rifle is a damn gift,” Isaac muttered.

Lydia leaned back out. She caught sight of Jackson, Kira, and Scott diving for one of Daron’s jeep, before all of them drove off, leaving behind Jennifer and her insane crew. She took a momentary breath or relief before turning to the back.

“The med kit is under the seat,” Isaac was saying to Derek, who was in the back checking Stiles over.

Lydia gaped when she noticed a knife sticking out of the side of Derek’s leg.

“Derek, your leg! What the hell! How do I – Do I take it out?” she asked, hands hesitating.

Derek didn’t even glance at it. “It’s fine. It’s shallow. Stiles has a cut on his head, but it’s not bleeding much, and his arm is bleeding. I think he got shot.”

“Shit.” Lydia reached out and helped Derek cut off the sleeve of Stiles’ shirt.

Derek touched the wound and checked it. Lydia was already thinking of their options, but Derek suddenly let out a breath of relief. “No bullet. Might have just skimmed him.”

Lydia sighed, immediately deflating. “Oh, thank god.” She let out a laugh of relief.

Isaac reached out and grabbed Lydia’s hand, giving it a squeeze. “Keep him steady, Derek. We just need to get away.”

“You came just in time,” she said, smiling tiredly at him.

Isaac grinned, eyes still on the road. “We didn’t turn the comms off, remember? Ally and I heard most of it, but we thought you might need back up so we tried not to give ourselves away too quickly. Rest up. Leave the driving to us.” He grabbed the radio.

Lydia nodded.

She glanced back at Stiles, his head lolling, and Derek, who was slumped over, panting and tired. There was a jeep ahead of them and, through the side mirror, there were two more following after.

They made it.

She pressed a palm against the hidden pocket on the inside of her left thigh.

They made it.


	6. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We’re a team, whether we like it or not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going back and forth on it for a while, but I’ve decided to limit the story to only Stiles’ POV, and a few others if necessary. I thought of maybe writing through Derek’s POV since we’re already at the halfway mark just to change things up, but I like the mystery of Daron and I wanted to be somewhat consistent on focusing on the civilians of the group.
> 
> I also should have done it earlier, but I upped the ratings to reflect any curse words and future depictions of violence and/or deaths. Things have slowed down in this chapter, but we’ll get more action moving forward.
> 
> Enjoy.
> 
>  **FYI (Aug 26, 2019):** My scheduled update is supposed to be today, but I've been sick and vomiting for the past week and a half so absolutely no writing was done. Expect a new chap next week. Thank you.

The first and second things Stiles noticed after he opened his eyes were that he had a slight headache and his shoulder was throbbing something fierce. Then he noticed was that it was nighttime, that he could hear the fire crackling, and that he wasn’t alone.

Stiles turned his head to the side.

It was Danny, and he looked relieved.

“Hey, you’re up. You okay, man?”

Stiles muttered, “Yeah. Help me up?”

Danny helped Stiles sit up slowly. Stiles rubbed his forehead with a hand. Only when he felt his shoulder flare in pain and then touched the gauze wrapped around his forehead did he realize the cause of his various aches and pains. A water bottle appeared in his line of sight and he took it using his non-aching shoulder, murmuring a thanks. He took a few greedy gulps before finally taking stock of the situation.

He was laid out a sleeping bag, still in the clothes he had worn earlier – today? yesterday? – though someone had stripped off his polo shirt and left him in his white t-shirt, still blood-stained come to that. His shoulder was bandaged and so was his head, along with some minor cuts and bruises on his face, arms, and legs. The friction burns on his hands that he got from that underground well incident was already healing nicely, but somebody had taken care to tend to that too with some ointments and gauze.

He looked around, checking his surroundings.

They had set up camp under a copse of trees close to a river at a location Stiles didn’t recognize. There was a campfire blazing a few feet away, casting a glow across the trees and where Stiles was resting close to the semicircle of jeeps that surrounded him and Danny like large, metallic sentries.

He noticed another figure stretched out on a sleeping bag close by. Kira looked at him, tired but smiling.

The memory struck his mind like lightning. The last thing Stiles remembered was getting shot, Jackson, and Jennifer Blake. He had left Kira and Lydia and the clue.

Kira waved a hand, probably noting Stiles’ distress. “I’m fine, Stiles. Lydia is okay too. I woke up just a few minutes before you did.”

Stiles noticed that her arm was wrapped up, but she was smiling and relaxed. He sighed in relief. “I’m just glad to see you’re fine.”

She grinned. “Ditto.”

“We’re all just waiting on you two,” Danny added. “We’ve got food and water if you’re both ready.”

Kira sat up and Stiles nodded.

“Where are we?” he asked, reaching for his boots. “And what time is it?”

Danny handed Kira her boots. “We’re by the Sansina River, quite far from the nearest town. A lot of us are injured, but we couldn’t go back to Htes until we had the time to rest and regroup. It’s past eleven, but it’s still the same day. We’ve been driving long and hard to eat up some distance between us and Jennifer’s group, but thankfully we all have fast drivers.”

“That’s good,” Stiles said, relieved.

“And it was a unanimous agreement to wait until everyone was awake before we explain _everything_ ,” Danny added.

Everything, eh?

As Stiles started to tie his boots up, he realized his hands were bare. “Hey, Danny. Did you see my gloves?”

Danny shook his head. “Maybe with Lydia or Derek. They were the ones who wrapped you up during the drive over.”

After a few more gulps of water and packing up the sleeping bags in the jeep – most of which had broken glass and a bevy of bullet holes – Stiles and Kira followed after Danny towards the others.

Stiles didn’t realize how on edge he was until he saw his friends. Allison and Isaac were by the fire, eating some food packs and talking quietly. Scott was sitting on a sleeping bag by their feet, dozing against Allison’s thigh, though he jolted awake once he saw Stiles. Jackson was in conversation, surprisingly enough, with Erica, both of them comparing Jackson’s military sniper rifle with Erica’s just as large, long, and equally impressive rifle. Boyd was seated on the base of a tree close by, ever quiet but watchful. Lydia and Derek were looming over a table a few feet to the side, discussing something over books, tablets, and maps.

At Stiles, Kira, and Danny’s arrival, they all stopped at attention.

Scott immediately stumbled up and reached for Stiles in a hug. Stiles returned the embrace with one arm, taking care not to jostle his still-tender shoulder.

“Careful of his head and shoulder, Scott,” Allison warned.

“I’m fine,” Stiles said, then repeated it loudly for everyone. “I’m fine. Thanks. Mostly confused, but at this point, I’m relieved we’re all fine.”

 _And alive_ , remained unsaid but heard by all.

Scott was fine save for some bruises, including one on his uneven jaw. Allison and Isaac had been far from the mess and they both looked fine. Erica had a few butterfly bandages on her, so did Boyd and Danny.

Derek and Lydia moved closer to the group. Lydia had a bruise on her face and some cuts on her arms. Derek was limping a little, as evidenced by a torn hole in his pants that showed them a bandaged leg just above and to the side of his knee.

“Honestly, I’m glad I’m the worst of all of us,” Stiles admitted.

Lydia pressed a kiss to Stiles’ cheek then leaned close to whisper. “If you do anything that insane again, I will kill you.”

Stiles chuckled and hugged her back. “Noted, Miss Martin.”

Lydia nodded at Derek and then sat down on Jackson’s other side, not at all averse to her boyfriend and Erica comparing guns.

Derek approached Stiles, the medallion hanging from his neck and glinting against the light from the fire. He looked calm and even a little fierce, but in light of recent events, Stiles knew better now. He could pick out Derek’s concern and the fatigue and heaviness that clung to his frame, whether it was by Jennifer’s hand, or this current adventure, or because of something else, Stiles wasn’t sure yet.

Derek stopped in front of him. He reached into his shoulder holster. And yeah, it said something about joint death experiences and all that that no one even flinched in suspicion. But Derek moved slowly and broadcasted calmness. He reached in and then pulled out Stiles’ Sig Sauer before handing it to him.

It was much a sign of truce as anything could be.

Stiles stared at the gun for a moment before shrugging at Derek. “I love that gun. It’s got an important and sentimental history. At this point, I’ll let you hold on to it as a show of faith.”

Derek didn’t seem to expect that and he blinked in surprise. Stiles patted him on the shoulder before staggering off to the fire to sit beside Scott. He heard Kira cough delicately behind him, obviously amused, before she settled down on Stiles’ other side. Danny splayed beside Isaac and Derek sat beside Erica, right across from Stiles. Boyd remained at a distance, but he always did that.

Stiles hunkered down, smiling when Allison handed him a blanket against the chill and some protein bars and a water bottle for his stomach.

Derek was obviously Daron’s spokesperson, and after a quick glance from Lydia, Stiles became theirs. At this point, there wasn’t anything he and his friends were hiding. Everything leaned more towards Daron’s side of the court.

He grinned at everyone. “So, where do we start?”

Derek looked into the fire, serious and contemplative. He didn’t seem like he was going to withhold information. It just seemed as if he didn’t know where to start.

Stiles was not only raised by a policeman-slash-army man of a father, but he also had the benefit of photographic memory. He had been trying to make heads or tails of the situation over the past few days, and while there were holes in his story, the incident earlier at the Temple of Harawo and facing off against Jennifer Blake had put things into a clearer perspective.

He propped his chin on his palm, studying the other man.

“…Or may I be allowed to take a guess?”

Derek’s lips quirked. “Obviously you’d have guesses.” He looked away from the fire to stare at him, eyes a stark green. He nodded. “Be my guest.”

“Son of a policeman.” Stiles shrugged.

He closed his eyes, fingers pressed to his temple as he recalled the scene at the museum. “Back at the museum during our first encounter, we were threatened, yes, but no one was seriously hurt. You made a mess of everything, but not a single one of the displays was broken nor were any of the artifacts stolen – pretty odd for a group of thieves who supposedly had quite the reputation, a group who no doubt could have easily stolen and sold those treasures. In fact, from what the others had said, Professor Evy was more surprised than upset over what happened at her museum.”

He looked at Derek. “Add in the fact that Erica once mentioned that you were a Tantiologist yourself, so if I had to make my first guess, I’d say you and Professor Evy are well-acquainted.”

Isaac jerked in surprise, so hard and sudden that he accidentally spat out the water he had just consumed. Thankfully right into the fire and not on anyone.

“Er,” he flushed, wiping his mouth. “Ignore that.” Everyone gladly did.

Stiles resumed his earlier train of thought. “We’ve kept from contacting her out of caution, especially after hearing about Jennifer and company’s threats towards her, but the fact that the Professor hasn’t tried vainly to look for us, especially her own nephew, means you two are on friendly terms. She was sure Isaac was safe in your hands.”

Derek nodded. There was a twitch in his mouth, as if he was trying not to smile. “I am a Tantiologist and I was a former student of Professor Carnahan back in London, prior to her move to the United States. We’ve kept in touch over the years.”

“Shiiit,” Isaac hissed. “Auntie’s probably going to kill me for this mess, then?”

“Most likely,” Danny drawled, grinning as Isaac made a face at him.

Derek looked to Stiles, amusement clear on his face this time. “Are you done with your guesses?”

“I might have a couple more,” Stiles admitted, tapping his chin. “But at least now we’ve got something to go on. This entire thing obviously started out on the wrong foot.”

“If you’re friends with Professor Evy, then what is it with Daron’s unsavory reputation for stealing ancient Tantian artifacts?” Allison asked. “Erica told us before that we were wrong for believing the rumors, so what is the truth?”

Stiles was sure he wasn’t the only one among his friends to lean forward in anticipation. He noticed even Lydia looked intense.

To Derek’s credit, he came right out and said it.

“My name is Derek James Hale and my family are direct descendants of the Kingdom of Tanti.”

Stiles felt like he had a mini heart attack. Isaac once again looked like he was choking on something, while Lydia summed it all up with an ear-splitting shriek of “Are you serious?” that seemed to ring across the empty desert.

Allison turned to Isaac. “This is the time spitting would have been the best reaction.”

Lydia was suddenly on her feet and pacing in the sand. “If you’re saying the truth, that’s a game changer! The entire historical and archeological community is going to rave about this! They’ve never known anybody to be descendants. I mean, they’ve narrowed down possible mixes, all of them just posits after tracing centuries of marriages and breeding between kingdoms, clans, and cultures, but a direct descendant…”

Scott was making a face. “Lydia, can you not use that word? Breeding. Gives me the creeps.”

Lydia ignored him, rounding on Derek. “Do you have proof?”

Derek nodded. “Yes.”

“What kind of proof?”

“Unquestionable proof.”

“Just throwing it out there,” Erica spoke up, “But Derek and Danny are cousins so…”

Danny waved a hand like a beauty pageant contestant. The three-spiral tattoo across his neck was stark against the light of the campfire.

Lydia looked between the two men, her expression outright ravenous, just as Stiles felt. But Stiles also noticed something slightly grim hiding behind both Derek and Danny’s expressions.

“That’s why you claim the treasures are yours,” Lydia said, snapping her fingers.

“Yes and no,” Danny spoke up. “To be frank, ownership of archeological artifacts is a grey and often contested area. In our case, however, it’s tricky.” He motioned to Derek. “The Hale family has the greatest, albeit secret and private, collection of Tantian artifacts, treasures, and antiquities. A number of them were sold to the black market by the more… well, dishonorable family members over the past decades.”

“Sold and stolen,” Allison said. “And you’ve been taking them back?”

Danny nodded.

“But how come nobody knows, both about the treasures and your heritage?” Allison asked. “This is historical. Little about the culture and its history are known. You’d be perfect ambassadors for the Kingdom of Tanti.”

Kira shook her head. “Enough people already know about it. That’s the problem.”

“I’m guessing that’s where this Jennifer Blake character comes in,” Isaac piped up.

Kira made a face. “Among others.”

“Wait. Wait. I’ve got a question,” Jackson spoke up for the first time. “If you’re so sure you’re a descendant, then who exactly are you related to?”

Derek and Danny glanced at one another, before Derek said, “Desabi-Hath.”

Jackson’s face scrunched up. “Who?”

Scott was the one who spoke up first. “That was Queen Tielana’s right hand man, right? The one rumored to have killed her? I remember that from the paper Stiles wrote.”

Stiles, despite unable to take his eyes off of Derek, reached out to Scott for a supportive fist bump. Scott was kind enough to reach over and bump their fists together.

Lydia was still standing and still gaping at both Derek and Danny. “You’re fucking kidding me? With who? Desabi-Hath was not known to have had any wives or concubines! He was the royal scribe and right-hand, pledged to remain loyal only to–” She stopped talking abruptly, teeth clacking together loudly. “No. No way. You cannot be a–”

“Derek’s family are descendants of the Wolf Queen,” Erica cut in, a glint of satisfaction in her eyes at beating Lydia to the punch.

Isaac gripped his chest. “Now _that_ is a damn bombshell.”

Scratch that mini heart attack, because Stiles actually felt his chest tighten with excitement. “That is the most amazing fucking thing I’ve ever heard,” he breathed. “And damn well proves my damn paper that he didn’t fucking kill the queen. God fucking dammit.”

“That’s a lot of cursing,” Scott muttered.

Lydia looked like she was losing her mind, silent, gaping, and so stunned into silence that even Jackson looked a little concerned at her.

“Babe, breathe,” Jackson said.

“It does make sense,” Allison mused in that practical way she always did, far less affected than the scholars in their team. “Despite the mystery surrounding her, you’d expect even the Wolf Queen to have secured her lineage in some way.”

“But how come nobody knew and nobody said anything?” Isaac asked. “She could have secured her hold on the throne if people knew she had an heir.”

“Because she was assassinated,” Lydia immediately perked up, the academic switch in her head flicking on. “I don’t doubt Queen Tielana would have found a way to hide the fact that she had a child. But somebody found out she had an heir and that was why she was killed for it, and no doubt Desabi-Hath took her, _their,_ child to safety. No record or writing every really confirmed what happened to him after the Queen’s assassination. That was why most historians deduced that he was killed for betraying her.”

“Quite a theory,” Derek commented, neither confirming nor denying. Danny looked amused, but didn’t give anything away as well.

“Theory nothing,” Lydia growled. “What the fucking hell is the tru–”

“Wait. Wait. Wait.” Jackson waved a hand. He turned to Lydia. “Babe, I get that you’re excited. That’s big news, but you can hash those things out with Derek and Danny later.” He turned to the rest. “If anybody’s forgetting, a majority of us got shot and almost died because of that.” He pointed at the medallion around Derek’s neck. “Mind clearing things up on just who we’re up against here? Before the wolves descend on you,” he motioned to Lydia and Stiles, “Literally?”

Derek opened his mouth to reply, but Stiles beat him to it, another of the puzzle pieces slotting into place in his head.

“Jennifer Blake knows about you, about your ancestry, about the treasure hunt.”

Lydia snapped out of her academic daze to comment. “Jennifer called you dear and darling earlier.”

“Wait, she did?” Stiles felt an odd jolt in his chest to hear that. He glanced at Derek, whose face was a mask, but Stiles was starting to see that his silence was so much louder than anything he could ever say. Stiles mind grabbed onto Lydia’s words and tugged, so hard and fast that he blurted out his first guess.

“You two were…” Stiles tried to think of an appropriate word, “Involved.”

Kira’s wide eyes and Danny’s slanted eyebrow certainly helped, so did Erica’s low whistle, but Derek’s sigh was the real kicker.

“What? So we’re talking about a vengeful ex?” Jackson asked, making a face. “That’s who was trying to kill us?”

“It’s more than that,” Danny said. He turned to Derek. They had some sort of silent conversation the rest of them weren’t privy to before Derek commented.

“We were students in the same university. She was a medical student,” he said. “Eventually, she won my confidence.”

Danny twitched, so subtly that Stiles was sure he was the only one to notice. It was a sudden reaction with a lot of hidden implications.

“Was she also stealing from you?” Allison asked, eyeing the medallion.

“Yes,” Derek admitted. “She charmed all of us. We didn’t notice until it was too late.” He pulled the medallion from his neck and held it to the light of the fire. “This medallion is one of our most important family heirlooms. She got too greedy, tried to take it, but she got caught. She had plans though and she managed to disappear before my family could really get to her. She’s been working against us since.”

“But if she knows about your lineage, then why didn’t she tell people? Expose you?” Lydia asked.

“Long story short, the damn bitch sold us out,” Erica said, voice tinged with that same rage she always carried, though this time it wasn’t directed at any of them. “Underworld connections paid more than a tell-all book or calling in tips to some history magazines. The information she had on the Hale family was too fucking _profitable_ to just be splashed on newspapers or websites. She got paid for every information she could provide on the Hale Family, on us, on the Tantian treasures.”

“It got to the point where we needed some people on our side,” Derek continued. “In the end, our Tantian lineage became something of an open secret to a select few. Professor Carnahan knows, so does her husband, select archeologists, historians, even a few government entities.”

“It’s like in the comic books,” Scott piped up and snapped his fingers, earning some confused looks. “You’re something of a vigilante group or double agents. It’s why the police aren’t even hunting you guys down and Professor Evy didn’t seem so worried about you.”

“Not really,” Erica scoffed. “We don’t work for anyone, but we gather information and keep an eye on some black market dealers.”

Kira clarified for her. “There is a large grey area when it comes to historical and archaeological treasures and there is a lot of money in the black market for any rare items. Operating within the law doesn’t always help. It’s where we come in.”

“Professional treasure seekers?” Scott amended.

Kira shrugged a shoulder. “Something of the sort. We’re a flexible group.”

“Wait a second. Something doesn’t make sense,” Lydia spoke up, still standing and pacing in the sand. “I can understand your profession, practice, and black market dealings. You see it on TV and all that.” She waved a hand as if discarding all that information. “But where does the City of Rebirth fit into all this? You said the medallion was a family heirloom, but you only seem to be hunting Oran Juhor now with the medallion and the maps. Why now? What changed?”

Danny shrugged. “Honestly? It’s you guys.” He motioned to all of them, but specifically to Isaac.

Isaac was wide-eyed. “Me? Er, us?”

“Over the years, the Tantian treasures that the mercenary group of Daron have been supposedly stealing from sacred places all over the world were also treasures that were stolen or sold from our family,” Danny said. “We were recovering some of them and plant false news to control the flow of information. While we were gaining more notoriety, so to speak, Professor Carnahan and her husband had been working to find and unearth other treasures.”

Derek nodded towards Isaac. “One of their discoveries is the sarcophagus two years ago, the one currently on display at the museum.”

“Auntie Evy and Uncle Rick really got a lot of press for that,” Isaac admitted. “Though I did notice they also increased security around the museum.”

Allison snapped her fingers. “Which explains why the Tantian wing is under electronic, biometrics, and fingerprint lock.”

“That was also around the time she started looking for interns to do field work with her,” Derek said. “They needed new people, smart people, ones who aren’t involved and wouldn’t mind helping in the protection and preservation of Tantian culture.”

Danny pointed at Lydia, then Stiles. “Think about it. You two are her students. You’ve studied the sarcophagus. You’ve seen the murals. You two have done the translations. Hell, I’d bet you were working on a lot of translations and research even before you were invited to come to Cairo. You didn’t think that’s all _just_ for extra credit, do you?”

Stiles and Lydia turned to one another. It came back so clearly to him. All of the maps, photos and scrolls they had seen and read, all of the work he and Lydia had done, all of which were only talked about in secret and kept under lock and key. Professor Evy had told Stiles that if things went well during this trip she would take him under her wing for his Masters in Ancient Tanti, include him in future expeditions, as well as recommend him to join next year’s dig in Nairobi.

Maybe, possibly, if things had panned out well…

Stiles froze. “You mean we’ve… We were…”

Lydia blurted it out for him. “What, we were being recruited?”

“Don’t be mistaken,” Derek said. “Looking after the museum and helping Professor Carnahan was enough. Civilians hanging around, especially students, is a good deterrent against anyone trying to make plans against the museum. That’s where the line was drawn.”

Danny reached out and flicked Isaac’s arm. “After you took the medallion, we couldn’t afford to delay, not when we got entangled with civilians and not when we got Daehler’s attention. We weren’t really meant to kidnap anyone.”

“This little adventure was never in the cards for you people,” Erica said, always so straightforward. “Until someone stole the medallion.”

“And burned the clue.” Danny nodded. “Though if Professor Carnahan thought you guys were loyal and trustworthy enough to be told, then that was something that would have come up later on.”

The glint of the medallion in Derek’s hands was like a lightbulb in Stiles’ head. “Daehler said Daron had been searching for Oran Juhor for years.”

Derek nodded. “Oran Juhor, the Tantian City of Rebirth, is one of the most powerful cities in ancient history, a city that supposedly disappeared after Queen Tielana’s death. It is the most crucial historical monument of the Kingdom of Tanti. It is also without a doubt an incalculable source of wealth for whoever finds it or discovers the truth about it.” He grinned at them wryly. “The day Isaac saw us at the marketplace in Cairo was the day we were supposed to meet with Professor Carnahan to inspect the sarcophagus.”

Lydia jumped on that thought. “You called it the ‘second sarcophagus.’ It’s the clue you’ve been searching for, for _years_.”

Derek nodded. “Yes, but it’s not just us. The unearthing of the sarcophagus brought about the surge of more mercenaries and treasure seekers, including the likes of Daehler and Jennifer.”

Erica scoffed loudly. “And it didn’t help that that Daehler suddenly took an interest in you, which was a damning red flag. That little cockroach had been spying on us for weeks. We had a feeling he had seen Isaac take the medallion.”

“And now he’s working with Jennifer Blake,” Allison commented, making a face.

Kira nodded. “We try to keep tabs on her, but we haven’t actually faced off against her in quite a while. It’s not surprising she’d pop up here. No doubt her spies would have heard the news that Professor Carnahan was making progress with more Tantian discoveries.”

“Who are the others with her?” Jackson asked.

“Kali is the bitchy harpy,” Erica said. “Ennis is the big, monstrous, dumb one. You know the skinny cockroach. And Ethan and Aiden are the twins who share only one brain. They’re not particularly smart – that’s Jennifer’s job – but they’re all trigger happy and bloodthirsty.” She looked at them. “They won’t hesitate to shoot anybody, obviously.” She pointed at Stiles.

“She had the upper hand at the time.” Stiles shrugged. “And hey, you have to admit, we’re lucky we managed to hold our ground considering we didn’t know a thing about Jenny from the block.”

Kira coughed delicately, hiding a laugh. Erica’s lip twitched, apparently appreciating that crack.

“You might not get lucky next time,” Derek commented, eyes flicking towards Stiles’ injured shoulder.

Stiles grinned at him. “Nor you guys, which is why we need to stick together and cooperate.”

Lydia immediately nodded. “For the sake of Oran Juhor, I agree.”

Jackson snorted and patted his sniper rifle. “We all got shot together. That’s one hell of a bonding experience.”

“I’m game,” Allison said, while Isaac nodded, adding, “I want to do it for Auntie.”

Scott sighed, but nodded.

Derek looked around at them. “I guess it would be too much to expect you all to go back to Cairo…”

“I guess that’s settled then!” Lydia clapped her hands together, cutting through any more conversation. “We’re all going to find Oran Juhor together.”

None of Daron even thought to say no, not even Erica.

Danny propped his chin on his fist. He winked at Isaac teasingly. “I’m pretty sure you guys will follow us even if we did say no.”

“The more, the merrier.” Kira shrugged with a smile. “It’s only to our advantage that both Stiles and Lydia are good at solving riddles and expert on the Kingdom of Tanti.”

Derek looked at the members of his team, turning to Boyd last. The dark man had remained quiet throughout the entire conversation, and yet Derek looked to him silently and patiently.

“ _Wari nase tehi-e (It is your choice),_ ” was all Boyd said before standing up. He waved his rifle. “I’ll take first watch. You all decide who goes next.” He loped off to find a place to settle down for his guard duty.

Lydia’s brow furrowed. “Wait, we still haven’t talked about the clue–”

“We can figure it out tomorrow, Lyds,” Stiles said. He stood up. The way his knees shook a little wasn’t even acting on his part and he smiled thankfully when Scott grabbed a hold of his elbow to steady him. Thankfully it was his injury-free arm. “Not to sound like I’m complaining, but I really think we need to take a breather, at least for tonight.”

Nods and murmurs of agreement erupted around the campfire, that even Lydia had to sigh and nod. Kira and Allison started talking about taking shifts. Erica and Jackson started talking about someone’s blade collection. Danny and Lydia got to talking about Tantian treasures, while Scott and Isaac contemplated how hungry they were.

Derek stood up, brushed sand off the seat of his pants. Stiles turned around and walked to the jeeps, slowing down his steps and not at all surprised when Derek fell into step beside him, still limping a little at his leg wound.

“Stiles, I’ll take a look at your bandages before you get some shuteye, okay?” Kira called out, to which Stiles raised a thumbs up over his shoulder.

They both headed to the jeep in silence. Derek leaned against the side as Stiles popped open the back to look for an extra shirt. The blanket was okay, but he was starting to feel a chill. As he took off his shirt, maneuvering gingerly around his injured shoulder and his head, he noticed Derek staring at him.

“What is it?” Derek asked. “I know you’ve got something more to say.”

Stiles hissed a little at his aching shoulder before saying, as gently as possible, “Jennifer didn’t just gain your confidence. She used to be one of you guys.”

Derek let out something of a hoarse exhale, a rough laugh that Stiles thought suited him.

“Very sharp, Stilinski.”

It wasn’t that big of a leap, in Stiles’ opinion. Now that Stiles knew so much more about who Derek was and why he and Daron were doing all this, it put everything in perspective for him. It explained Derek’s intensity and seriousness, and the urgency that seemed to shadow his every movement. And the intensity of his rivalry with Jennifer seemed too personal for it to stem from something as simple as them being _just_ ex-lovers.

Being a part of Derek’s team, one of Daron, who had earned a secret that wasn’t just Derek’s but his family’s…

That must have hurt Derek more. All of them.

“It was a bit obvious, too me anyway,” Stiles admitted. “That was why Danny got twitchy and defensive and why Erica looked so angry. You weren’t the only one to trust Jennifer.”

Yet Derek seemed to carry that burden the most.

Derek looked up at the pale moon. “She completed our group, not just because she was our group doctor but because she had something more.” He nodded over to their joined group gathered around the fire. “She was good with tech and weapons like Danny, and had a military background like Kira, though she came from a strict grandfather and even stricter father. She was a fighter and good with weapons like Erica and she was calm and levelheaded like Boyd.”

The betrayal had obviously hurt them all.

Stiles shrugged on a button-up, hissing at the tug on his shoulder. He jumped a little when Derek reached forward to help him slide the button-up around his shoulders.

“Thanks,” he muttered. “You said you know people and your family is obviously influential. Why not have her arrested?”

Derek let out a weak laugh. “The first year after she left us, none of us had the heart to arrest her. By the time we tried, she had already made friends in high places.”

“I see,” Stiles muttered. He could only imagine how conflicted they would be to take Jennifer down.

“Kira and Lydia told us,” Derek suddenly said. “About how you volunteered to go up against her to give them a chance. I know you did it for Lydia, but thank you for saving Kira too.”

“It was the least I could do,” Stiles said, buttoning his shirt up. He grinned and even winked at Derek teasingly. “And come on, man. All the mess aside, I do like you guys, especially when compared to Jennifer.” He finished the last button and flexed his fingers, suddenly remembering how exposed they were.

“Hey, Derek, do you have my gloves, by the way?”

Derek looked confused for a moment, before rolling his eyes. “You mean _my_ gloves? The ones I left you after you tried to drown us in the underground well?”

Stiles poked his arm. “Hey, you left them to me, so they’re mine now. And _you_ left _us_ in the middle of the desert, so don’t go throwing stones.”

Derek looked amused, but he reached into his back pocket and pulled out said black leather gloves. He handed them to Stiles. “We left a GPS transmitter with you, if you may recall.”

Stiles snorted, remembering that he stowed that in his backpack. “Yes, you did. I still have it. I guess we’re square then.”

“Seems like it,” Derek said as he watched Stiles pull the gloves on.

“Well…” Stiles flexed his fingers in the black gloves, soft and toasty warm. Derek had good taste. “Fair is fair _now_ , but it seems we’re also going to be doing you guys a favor by helping, so… I want to read it.”

Derek turned to him, confused. “Read what?”

Stiles scoffed and leaned against the jeep beside Derek, facing the man. “The Kingdom itself has a meager collection of writings and records. A large part of what is known about the kingdom and its Queen was taken from the writings and perspective of other kingdoms and other people. It’s what makes Tantian artifacts so valuable in the first place.”

“Yet Queen Tielana knew how to read and write. She built and designed the wolf armor that she became renowned for. She ushered the Golden Age of the Kingdom of Tanti. But you’re telling me, Mr. I am the descent of the so-called Wolf Queen, that a woman like her – a woman who could design her own armor, who became queen at twenty-one, who built an empire so vast, and has many enemies, many secrets, and many plans – that a woman like _that_ did not keep records of her reign somewhere? The kind of records that, say, her descendants will keep in their so-called vaults?”

Derek’s face gave nothing away, but it was the only proof Stiles needed.

“She managed to hide a child to carry on her bloodline. She could damn well manage a journal of some sort. If not her, then certainly the man she chose as her partner and right-hand man, known to have managed her kingdom for her while she was busy pillaging and killing and wolfing out over her enemies.” Stiles grinned at Derek cheekily. “So once we solve this, I want to read whatever proof it is that you are related to her.”

“Once… not if?” Derek asked.

“I don’t deal with ifs, Mr. Hale. Not about something like this. I take Ancient History very seriously.” Stiles patted him on the arm and walked back towards the campfire. The sooner Kira could take a look at his arm, the sooner he could get some sleep and quite possibly heal quicker.

Stiles looked back over his shoulder. “Aren’t you glad we’re coming along on your adventure?”

Derek just grinned, amusement breaking over his features in an expression Stiles was glad to have seen on the usually stoic man. “If you had asked me that when I was almost drowning in an underground well, I would have said no. Now, I’ll just say, let’s see.”

Stiles grinned back. “I’ll win you over yet, Hale.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Come nighttime they were still stuck at the damn, crumbling temple. The desert was cold and the sand was itchy and got into every nook and cranny. They were almost out of water and supplies, the tower was the only thing to look at, the jeeps were totaled, glass shards were everywhere, and honestly, Matt didn’t even want to hang around all these people for longer than he had to.

They had been here for hours and hours. He didn’t even know what the hell they were waiting for.

Matt frowned to himself. He was seated on the stone steps leading up to the temple. His phone battery already ran out and he was out of ammo so his gun was of no use to him. Jennifer was on her phone a long way off where none of them could hear her. She had been calling people on and off over the past few hours. Ethan and Aiden were seated around the campfire, talking in hushed voices and heating up some water over the fire for their dinner. Kali was checking on Ennis’s bandages since apparently the big, musclebound, idiot had gotten shot and needed to have the bullet scraped out. So did the others come to that, but they had all shrugged off their injuries as if they were nothing. Matt was lucky. He had gotten off with only a few scratches and bruises from that fox bitch and the idiot mongrel with the uneven jaw, but he sure as fucking hell wasn’t going to get involved with another shootout with these people. He was here for the Tantian gold, dammit, not to die.

Jennifer loped back to the campfire, pocketing her phone. Matt finally couldn’t help it and stomped over to the campfire.

“What the hell are we even waiting for?” he snapped. “Why isn’t anyone coming? You’ve been on the phone for ages! Aren’t you calling in reinforcements? Transportation? Something?”

Matt was sure he wasn’t the only one wondering about all this, but at least he had the balls to actually ask. Kali was too loyal of a bitch, Ennis was too stupid to even question his orders, and the twins were a couple of pussies.

Jennifer gave him a cool look, but she still replied, not that it was a satisfying response.

“We are waiting.”

“Waiting for what?” Matt asked, stomping his foot. “You’ve been calling people for ages! Haven’t you called your _tawi-e_ or whatever you call that girly boy you fuck around wi–”

His jaw clamped shut, suddenly finding himself staring down the barrel of a gun.

“Matthew,” Jennifer said, voice and smile sickly sweet, “Please remember that I am a woman who absolutely _detests_ things that are of no use. So far, you have your uses. I would hate for the moment to come when I suddenly decided it was time to. Let. You. Go.”

Matt gulped and backed off, almost tripping on his way. The others laughed at Matt’s plight and then ignored him, making small talk around the campfire. Jennifer holstered her gun and sat on the sand.

Matt cursed under his breath. Goddamn fucking harpy. He sat back at the temple steps, making sure he could still hear them just in case. The moment he found a window of opportunity, he was going to leave these people in the dust, maybe shoot the bitch in the back of the head if he had a clear shot.

“Where’s our heading anyway, boss?” Ennis asked. “I hadn’t had that much fun in ages.”

Kali cackled, twirling a knife between her fingers. The twins started debating on who managed to shoot any one of those Daron mongrels.

Jennifer just looked amused. She had a communicator in her hand and was tapping it against her smiling lips.

“We’ll get a lead soon. Don’t worry, darlings.”


	7. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everybody needs a little help sometimes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to you all for your patience. So many things have happened irl, but I'm still alive. I hope this lengthy chapter will make up for it.

Traveling with a larger group than before was different. There were a lot of things to coordinate and a lot of people with different opinions and attitudes to manage. There was always the possibility that either people get along or find themselves falling off the rails.

But traveling with Daron? That was a whole other ballgame.

Stiles and his group were civilians, and while they were definitely organized enough – thanks to Lydia’s attention to detail, Jackson’s anal retentiveness, and Allison’s practicality – they were nothing next to Daron. They worked with a rhythm, one that had an extra layer of military training on top of it. Everyone had a task, they knew what to do, and they did it in harmony with everybody else in the makings of a well-oiled machine that yielded the best results.

It got to the point where Stiles and Scott were just watching them work, chins in their hands and whispering to one another.

Danny was in charge of routes, maps, and communication. He was the first of them awake, checked on their heading, and listened to all radio frequencies on any news. Kira was in charge of inventory and was extra vigilant about their supplies, especially their medical kit. Nobody took anything from the jeeps without her permission and she was very picky about recycling as much as possible. Erica was, to no surprise, in charge of weapons, ammos, and jeep maintenance. Derek, as their leader, overlooked and decided on everything, but he always seemed to radiate a feeling of trust in everyone’s competence. As for Boyd, he might seem like the boring, silent type, but on closer observation, he was pretty much their hardcore, unyielding wall of serenity. Everybody made decisions, but they always seemed to ask his opinion too, even Derek, despite being the one to make the final decisions.

“Boyd’s part of the team, so of course we have to ask his opinions too, right?” Kira had answered earlier when asked. “Besides, Derek might be the oldest and our leader, but Boyd is definitely the most experienced.”

“Experience with what?” Stiles asked, curiosity needling at him.

Kira’s smile turned sharper, edging into a smirk. “You can just ask him, you know? He doesn’t bite… much.”

As their groups came together though, Daron were kind enough to share their knowledge and resources with Stiles and his friends, and didn’t seem to mind adjusting themselves around them. Derek, Danny, and Lydia, as the strategic-minded of the group, pored over the maps, tablets, and radios. Jackson, Erica and Allison were checking on the jeep and the weapons. Isaac was helping Kira clean up around camp and made sure everyone has eaten and that any wounds were checked and patched up. The ever vigilant Boyd was always standing guard.

Stiles and Scott were, well, just kinda hanging around, watching everyone.

“I know, Auntie. I’ll be careful.” Isaac made a face as he listened to his Aunt at the other end of the phone call. “Yes, okay. See you soon.” He hung up.

“How did she take it?” Stiles asked.

Isaac shrugged. “She’s fine with us going with Daron. She’s actually pretty supportive about all this adventure stuff, so long as we’re careful. I mean,” he glanced at Daron, “I left out the Jennifer thing, but I think she knows. She said to remind you and Lydia that this still counts as part of the final requirements for your course, though I’m pretty sure you two are going to pass with flying colors. And that I should tell Derek that if anything happens to us, she’ll kill him.”

Derek, scrolling through a tablet, just nodded to him and resumed reading.

“Auntie’s still pushing through with that dig with Professor Duke and she thinks they’re close to unearthing some more treasures,” Isaac added. “She’s keeping busy with that.”

Stiles groaned. “Damn. I really wanted to be there.” Stiles could remember his and Lydia’s conversation with Professor Evy weeks ago, back when she had them deciphering texts and archiving files and back when she promised she was going to take them to that tomb site she and Professor Duke had been working on.

Scott laughed. “Hey, you’re already on an adventure here. You can’t have everything, Stiles.”

“I want to,” Stiles whined.

Isaac snapped his fingers. “Oh, and Stiles, Auntie told me to tell you that she had to tell your Dad about what happened, because he called her wondering why you haven’t called him. Allison’s dad, on the other hand, was okay with whatever she was doing.”

“Of course, he is.” Allison smirked.

“Well, I’m not as lucky.” Stiles flinched, remembering the phone he had left back in his hotel room. “Goddammit. My old man’s gonna kill me.” He held out a hand. “Gimme that phone. I’ll just text him.”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it,” Erica was saying to her phone as she walked away from the jeeps to where most of them were gathered. “Thanks anyway, Lott. Talk to you later.” She hung up, a frown marring her face. She turned to Derek. “Der, Lott’s a maybe. He can fill us in ammo, but new jeeps are a no-go. He’s willing to pay us for the parts though, bullets and all.”

Derek frowned. “Not good enough. We need new transportation as soon as possible.”

Erica sighed and ran a hand through her hair in frustration. “I can keep looking, but Lott’s my closest contact. The others are about four or five days out. The jeeps might not make it by then even with the patch job I’ve done.”

“Jackson, you got anything from our list?” Lydia called out.

Jackson shook his head. “Same with Erica. I’m not lacking in contacts and we can even pay them to come here and get us, but they’re too far out.”

Danny snapped his fingers. “Oh, hey! How about Kutika? She has a base at Iboris. And it’s close. A day and a half, maybe two days away tops.”

Stiles immediately noted that Derek neither agreed nor disagreed. He turned to Erica. “Can we make it there?”

Erica hummed in thought. “The patch job on the jeeps are going to hold just enough, but if not, we can get close enough to trek it. I’m all for Iboris, but Kutika’s not only incredibly, totally picky, but too damn, fucking expensive. Considering we’re gonna request stuff in a snap, her rush fee’s going to be astronomical. That is, if she even decides she’s going to take our order.”

Allison spoke up. “If you guys want a bargain, Jackson’s a good negotiator. He can get something you want at half the price.”

Stiles snorted. “It’s half the reason he’s as rich as he is, because he’s stingy as hell.”

Jackson shrugged. “I like the challenge. If my contacts weren’t too far out, we’d have had a deal by now.”

Lydia pointed to herself and Jackson. “Besides, if Jackson can’t get a deal – which is incredibly rare by the way, but it does happen – we’ll pay for how much else is needed so long as your contact can get it done.”

Danny smirked. “Throw money at it until it solves the problem, eh?”

Lydia grinned back. “It worked, didn’t it? How did you think we got our stuff ready at record time in order to follow you in the first place?”

They all turned to Derek.  Derek caught Stiles’ eye and he nodded at the man.

“If it’s any consolation, Jackson and Lydia are loaded and perfectly willing to throw money into this.”

Derek finally nodded and motioned to Erica. “Make the call and the introductions. Let’s pray Kutika is merciful.”

Erica laughed. “Well, at least there’s another advantage of bringing the kiddies along. Negotiating skills and deep pockets.” She turned to Jackson. “Let’s see what you’re made of, Whittemore.”

Jackson grinned. “Give me the bare bones about this Kutika person and let’s see how much money I can save you guys.”

The two walked off, chatting all the way.

Scott nudged Stiles. “It’s so weird, right?”

Stiles looked at him. “What’s weird?”

“How she and Jackson get along so well now.” Scott nodded as Jackson laughed at something Erica said.

Stiles shrugged. “Jackson’s evil. He needed someone to relate to his evilness. Erica seems to fit the bill.”

The both of them burst into childish snickering.

“Boys.”

They snapped to attention, almost swallowing their tongues.

“Scott.”

“Er, yes, Lydia?”

“Stiles.”

“Um, yes, ma’am?”

Lydia looked none too amused at them. “There is no peanut gallery here. Everyone has to work. It’s time for the clue.”

That immediately got Stiles up and running. He jolted up, wincing when it jarred his aching shoulder. He noticed Derek watching him and flashed him a thumbs up. His body was felt sore all over, but sleep and meds had done him a world of good.

Stiles and Scott approached the table where Derek, Lydia, and Danny were gathered. Between them was the clue that Kira and Lydia had found from the chimney flues of the Temple of Harawo.

“It was difficult scaling the chimneys from the inside,” Lydia was saying. “Luckily, Kira was a good climber. We climbed up through the Tantian wing, but we didn’t find anything there, until we got to the top where the flue branched off. Kira found a clue at the top of the Nincan chimney.”

Lydia showed them the tablet and the photo. Stiles and Scott peered down at it. It was a photo of the rock wall, a little dim due to being inside the chimney and taken through a night camera filter. It showed the rock wall defaced by three long, diagonal, scratch marks.

Scott squinted at the photo. “What does it mean? They look like regular scratch marks to me, and I mean, three marks, that’s Wolverine right there.”

Stiles had to fist bump his brother for that, before explaining, “Those are actually Tantian symbols for directions.” He traced the marks on the photo. “Tantians didn’t want to use arrows or anything that specifically meant directions. They found them too obvious, so they used what looked like animal marks or claw marks to fool other people.”

Scott’s eyes lit up. “Oh, that sounds smart.”

“It’s actually part of what made Tantians not just good warriors, but also hunters and navigators. Some of their strategies and techniques are still used today,” Lydia added. “After Kira saw the marks, we climbed down the Nincan flue and saw this.” She reached over to swipe a finger across the tablet.

Another photo showed Queen Tielana’s wolf seal carved on a circular patch of rock that was protruding from the wall, a hollow protrusion that seemed to be just the right size to slip a medallion in.

Danny showed them the other tablet, where Kira and Lydia filmed themselves opening the shelf, though the video was a little dark and shaky. “The shelf opened up just like the others, but instead of a clue, this is what’s inside.”

Derek showed them a re-sealable bag and inside it was a…

“It’s a silver coin,” Scott said.

Stiles, on the other hand, was practically salivating. “Yes, but it’s not just any coin, Scottie. It’s a slave coin, like holy shit.” He gasped.

Scott’s brow furrowed. “But I thought you said Queen Tielana didn’t like slaves… like, er, the _tewi-ey_?”

“ _Tawi-e,_ ” Danny corrected. “And yes, she didn’t. However, before Queen Tielana came to rule, Tantians had a very prolific slave trade. In some cases, families procreated specifically to enter them into the slavery. Some of the rulers prior to Queen Tielana tried to abolish or at least control the trade, thus the creation of slave coins.”

Scott studied the coin. “So if you had a coin, you were considered a slave?”

Danny shook his head. “No, it’s the opposite. A limited number of these were made and were given to slaves and their families as a sign that they had been granted their autonomy. That’s why many historians are actually petitioning to change the name and call these, aptly, the liberty coins.”

“I drafted a proposal about that,” Stiles murmured absentmindedly, still looking at the coin. “I was planning to submit it to Professor Evy in case she’d want to edit it.”

“Anyway, you can imagine how prized these coins were,” Derek said. “So long as you had one of these, you and your family were essentially free from being treated like cattle.” He made a displeased face. “But when Queen Tielana came to rule, she completely outlawed slavery in favor of a more productive economy and improving trade. She had almost every single coin collected and melted down.”

“These things are rare,” Lydia said. “I won’t be surprised if Queen Tielana hid a couple of these for posterity,” she glanced meaningfully at Derek and Danny, “But as of now, only five of these have been found, six counting this one, and not all of them are intact and nearly unblemished. Not like this.”

Stiles inspected the silver coin. It truly was gorgeous, for all it had a sordid history.

“Stiles, stop drooling over it,” Lydia sighed.

“So we have a coin, and we know what it is,” Scott said, chin in his hand in though. “But how is it a clue? Are we supposed to…” he turned green, “Find where the slaves came from?”

Lydia bit her lip. “I don’t know, but Queen Tielana had all the slave forges in her kingdom razed to the ground and the exact locations have been practically erased from history. She really didn’t want the trade to ever return.”

“We have a few maps and some reading material regarding the _tawi-e_ ,” Danny said, motioning to the tablets. “Feel free to look through them in case. Maybe with more heads thinking this through, we’ll find an answer.”

Stiles nodded, and even Scott gave them a thumbs up.

“Sure, I’ll read some of those,” Scott said. “I mean, I’m not a history buff like you guys, but I’ve played a ton of video games. This is just like a puzzle you’re meant to solve before you continue on with your quest.”

“I agree.” Stiles gave his best friend a fist bump.

Derek nodded. “Good, while a few of us are trying to figure out this latest mystery, the rest of can focus on securing our resources so we can get out of–”

A loud shriek interrupted them and the group turned in shock to see Jackson looking smug and Erica laughing uproariously.

“Erica? What’s wrong?” Derek called out.

Erica’s face was lit up in excitement. “Jackson got us an audience with Kutika.”

Danny jerked. “Are you serious? She’s considering it?”

Erica grinned. “Yep. All weapons, transport, and resources. For a price.”

Jackson nodded. “She said we need to get to Ibori first before she can make a decision.”

Erica lightly punched his shoulder with a fist. “Hey, so long as you get an audience with her, we’ve already got our foot in the door.”

“Thank god for Jackson,” Lydia said, smiling proudly.

“That’s good news for all of us.” Derek tapped his fingers on the table. “Danny, Lydia, set a course for Iboris. Let’s pack up and roll.”

 

* * *

 

 

Iboris was only about a day and a half away from where they had made camp, and they’d been on the road for about thirty-eight hours when two of their jeeps finally gave up, one of Derek’s and one of Jackson’s.

Erica coughed, one cheek and both hands covered in oil from where she was inspecting the jeeps. “Ugh! God fucking dammit!” She groaned, kicking a tire. “There goes these bad boys. Too far gone even for a patch.”

They could see Iboris far off the horizon, close enough but still so far away, separated from them by miles of hot, harsh sand and the even hotter, harsher sun beating at their heads.

“How far away is it?” Stiles asked.

Danny hummed. “About three or four hours by jeep, more if by foot.”

“Don’t jinx it,” Erica snapped. “I am not in the fucking mood to walk through this damn desert.”

“What’s the plan now?” Scott asked.

“We have to split up,” Derek said. “Someone needs to guard the jeeps while the rest have to make the trip.”

“I don’t mind staying behind,” Allison immediately volunteered.

“What?” Scott perked up. “I’ll stay behind with Ally, if that’s the case.”

Derek mused for a moment. “We need two, maybe three, people to stay, preferably those good with weapons. Hopefully we won’t take long with Kutika, but there’s a chance we might not get the jeeps towed into town as fast as we’d like, and looters tend to crop up around these parts.”

“I’ll stay,” Allison repeated. “I don’t mind waiting out the heat. Plus, I’m good with weapons and you don’t really need me to haggle with that Kutika person. Jackson has to go, and Stiles and Lydia have to stick together to figure out the clue.”

Scott raised a hand. “I’ll stay with Allison.”

“I’ll stay,” Boyd said, voice booking no arguments, and no one from Daron even protested.

Isaac raised a hand. “I’m not staying.”

“You just don’t want to wait in the heat, Lahey,” Danny commented, then smirked when Isaac stuck his tongue out at him.

Kira tugged at Isaac’s arm. “If Jackson’s going to be too busy with Kutika, I’ll need your help with inventory and supplies anyway.”

“Three, I think that’s good enough,” Stiles said, even though he felt uncomfortable having to split up. “We’ll leave a communicator with you guys. I’ll get mine.” He grabbed his backpack from the jeep.

“Let’s split up the supplies and leave the bulk with you guys just in case we end up separated for a while,” Kira said. “And put all the valuables in one jeep, preferably one of the still working ones.”

Stiles rifled through his backpack, and then checked it once more. “Huh. I can’t find my communicator. Probably dropped it. Lyds, you leave yours with Ally A, could you?”

After the communicators were set up and the weapons and supplies were divvied up, they were ready to roll.

“Keep in touch.” Stiles hugged Scott then Allison.

Stiles climbed back into the front seat of the jeep, with Derek and Kira at the back and Danny at the wheel. Isaac was driving the other jeep, while Lydia, Erica and Jackson continued talking shop.

Stiles waved out the window and watched as the two jeeps and his three friends grew smaller in the distance. He was a little worried, just thinking of Jennifer out there. Then he thought of Boyd and his worries were quelled just a little. That man was a veritable, protective tank. He’d take care of Scott and Allison.

“They’ll be fine,” Kira commented. “Allison seems like a tough lady. Plus, Boyd’s pretty hardy and the sturdiest and strongest out of all of us.”

Stiles nodded, just having that same thought. “I know, but Boyd’s just so… quiet and mysterious.”

Kira smiled, an expression that said she was used to people saying that way about the man. “It takes people a while to warm up to Boyd because he’s so big and strong and doesn’t talk a lot. You’d be surprised how chatty he can be with the right people.”

Stiles tried to imagine a talkative Boyd, but that was just so… odd. Kira laughed at the expression on his face.

“Anyway, who is this Kutika person? And why’s she a big deal?” he asked instead.

“She’s a trader and arms dealer,” Danny said. “She does business on both sides of the pond – legally and illegally, that is – and manages to do it so well that she’s practically untouchable. She does business all over the world and has offices in different countries, including a few here. She’s hella costly, but if you need ammo, transport, and resources, especially the _nice quality_ ones, you need to get in touch with her.”

“How’d you guys find out about her?” Stiles asked.

“My family does business with her on the legal side, so she helps Daron out… when she’s in the mood,” Derek answered.

Stiles nodded and tried to imagine what this Kutika looked like.

The jeep chugged along and Stiles found himself dozing a little. Derek and Kira were talking in hushed tones at the back and Danny drove smoothly and quickly, occasionally looking at the rearview mirror for the other jeep and checking the radio frequencies. Stiles eventually came to as they approached.

“Better tell the others we’re here,” Stiles muttered. He had grabbed one of the extra communicators from his backpack after he couldn’t find his original one. All of their communicators were synchronized, so he knew Lydia and the others in the second jeep would hear him.

“Team B, come in. This is Team A, Stiles speaking. Sitrep. Over.”

After a beat, Allison replied. _“Hey, Stiles. It’s Allison. No action here. Sitrep on your end? Over.”_

Stiles peeked out the window to see them approaching the little outposts that marked the town’s borders. “It took a while, but we’re closing in on Iboris. We’ll have news for you soon. Tell Scott not to eat Boyd in the meantime. Over.”

Erica suddenly cut in. _“You’ll be lucky to take a lick before Boyd punches your head in.”_

Scott came on. _“Ha-ha-ha, Erica. And Stiles, you’re an idiot. I’m not going to bite Boyd. Look at the muscles on him.”_

Erica was obviously grinning. _“Boyd’s hard on the inside, but as soft as marshmallow inside. You gotta break teeth first before you taste the creamy filling, baby.”_ In the background, they heard Jackson howling with laughter.

Derek groaned. “Oh, god, Erica.”

Kira grabbed the comms. “Erica, that’s just gross.”

A serious, grave voice suddenly cut in. _“Stop talking about licking or eating me or I will punch someone.”_

And that was the end to that conversation.

They approached the Iboris town proper and Danny directed the jeep swiftly through town, though Stiles noticed he had moved to the back roads and smaller alleys. They seemed like such a tight fit Stiles was surprised Danny was able to squeeze their jeep through.

He let out a whistle as Danny did a neat turn. “Sweet driving, Danny.”

“Thanks.” He nodded to the rearview mirror. “And it’s a good thing Isaac can keep up.”

Stiles snorted. “Isaac’s a pickpocket, a safecracker, a crack shot, and can drive a getaway car. He’s a hellion and a criminal in the making underneath all that blond sunshine.”

“Huh. Sounds like one of us.” Kira giggled softly.

“Feel free to adopt him,” Stiles offered. “He’s a mess.”

Danny snorted. “That he is. He’s lucky he’s cute.”

Stiles raised an eyebrow at him. “What, you have a thing for people who steal from you?”

Danny smirked. “Keeps things interesting.”

They navigated the slim roads and tight spaces of Ibori. Stiles had been here before, and ironically enough, he came through here once in passing as a stopover before he went to the Temple of Harawo to study it.

Ibori was a large town, but its people lived quite simply, eschewing most technological advances and machinery in favor of manual work and hard labor. For all its minimalism though, its geographical location made it a frequent stopover for those traveling through the desert. As such, it had a decent enough tourist industry, as well as a few indecent enough visitors, as evidenced by the fact that Stiles noticed none of the residents seemed surprised to see their bullet-ridden, broken jeeps passing through.

They finally made their stop in front of a squat dilapidated building, with boarded-up and chain-wrapped windows. They stopped across iron double gates and a matching door that looked thicker than Stiles’ wrist, and both of them, frighteningly enough, were covered in honest-to-god iron spikes. It was straight out of a video game.

“We’re here,” Danny announced, parking the jeep neatly at the other side of the too-tight street, so tight Stiles was almost nervous he’d still get poked by the spikes if he got out.

“I can see that,” Stiles said and felt excitement zing through him. “The woman of the hour is here, eh?”

“If we’re lucky, she won’t be,” Derek commented.

He turned to him, confused. “What do you mean? I thought Jackson and Erica talked to her.”

Derek wasn’t able to answer that as he got out of the jeep. Stiles did too and saw the others got out from the other jeep. Erica took to checking the jeeps as they all congregated together.

“So…” Jackson drawled. “This looks threatening.”

“Kutika usually is,” Kira said.

“Threatening and not exactly inconspicuous,” Lydia murmured.

Danny shrugged. “Kutika isn’t known for being inconspicuous anyway. Not when she has run of the town, and not when she’s got enough firepower to blow up said town.”

“Ah.” Jackson nodded. “Nothing like sitting on a mountain of dynamite to make people see things your way.”

Lydia eyed the spikes distastefully. “How are we getting in? We certainly can’t knock.”

Derek leaned back against the jeep, crossing his arms over his chest. “They know we’re here, but they’ll let us in only when they’re good and ready.”

Stiles hummed. “Huh. One of those, eh?”

Erica and Jackson moved to checking on both jeeps and their weapons cache, Kira checked supplies, and Lydia started reading on her tablet, probably searching for an answer to their mysterious coin. Danny and Isaac got to talking, while Derek settled down for however long a wait was going to happen.

Stiles rocked on his heels a little before curiosity, and an aching bladder, won out.

“Stiles, don’t walk far,” Derek called before Stiles could even get two steps away.

“I know, Derek. I just really need to pee,” he replied. He patted the communicator on his hip before walking off.

Stiles walked around the building, partly to look for a bathroom of sorts and another to study the building, making sure not to look too conspicuous and just too anxious to pee. One of the many things he had learned from his Dad was the importance of recon and observation.

The side of the building was just as plain and just as boarded up as the other. There was a similar set of double iron gates with spikes, but there were two iron doors with spikes and little eye slots for anyone who wants to look outside. There were also a few cars parked haphazardly around the area. Stiles walked on, circling around the vehicles and heading near the back. There were usually some interesting things to see behind mysterious, boarded up buildings. He made sure he was behind the cover of the vehicles and wasn’t anywhere too close to the building.

At the back, there was the opposite set up. There were two sets of spikey double gates, one of which was thrown open, and a single iron door, also thrown open. There was a van parked in front of the gates and two men were lugging out large bags of what looked like sheets and clothing. The side of the truck had the faded sign of a cleaning service.

A woman who looked very much in charge stood among them, with short dark hair, a tank top, vest, shorts, and combat boots. She was very petite, looked even smaller than Lydia, but had an assault rifle slung across her back. She had a clipboard and was checking each bag that was carried inside and was frowning heavily at each one.

Stiles had to bite back an exclamation of triumph when he noticed an outdoor urinal to the side. However, a few feet away he had to rear back. It smelled absolutely _foul_.

“Oh, goddammit,” he muttered.

Stiles groaned. With no choice left, he held his breath and ducked _behind_ the urinal, not inside. It wasn’t good, but it was the best he could do. As he peed, he could hear voices from the other side. When he couldn’t resist, he took a peek between the wall and the urinal just as the petite brunette’s voice rang out in Arabic.

 _“Poya! Did you mix the stuff? I told you not to!”_ the woman shouted, kicking one of the bags.

A man replied, _“Those are all the same damn clothes, Lejan! Why the hell am I gonna waste time sorting them?”_

The woman, Lejan, frowned. _“You’re a waste of space, Poya!”_

The man rolled his eyes and ignored her and Stiles saw Lejan’s left hand twitch. Considering her left thigh holster contained her handgun, Stiles knew what that meant.

 _“Put those in the garage out back!”_ she ordered the other men before stomping inside the building.

Huh. Interesting.

After finishing his business and making himself presentable, Stiles returned to the others and saw them all still waiting. Jackson had started pacing, Lydia was still reading, Erica was throwing stones at the spikey door across the way and making clanging noises, while Kira and Danny were talking. Derek looked at him and Stiles could sense his relief that Stiles came back in one piece.

“I finally peed. I’m good, though the urinal wasn’t.” He made a face. He reached over and tugged at Derek’s hand and waved at Jackson. “Come on, Der. Hey, Jackson.”

“What is it?” Derek asked as Jackson glared at him, already a tad irritable.

“I’ve got an ace for you guys, but we might need to switch our plans,” Stiles said, leaning towards the other males to talk about something important.

After a few more minutes of waiting, they heard a loud pop before one of the jeeps shuddered and immediately started spewing out smoke.

Erica paused from throwing pebbles at the gate. She sighed and walked over to pop open the hood. “Okay. That one’s officially in the afterlife.”

“Thank god we got here then,” Kira said, fanning the smoke away from her face and stepping back.

As soon as she said that, there was a loud creak and a groan, before a well-hidden eye slot in the iron door slid open.

“Oh, finally,” Lydia muttered, tucking the tablet away.

Derek stepped forward and raised a hand. In reply, the eye slot slid shut.

“Well, that’s certainly hospitable,” Stiles muttered.

“Are we going to have wait even longer?” Lydia asked, her impatience finally seeping into her voice.

There was a loud slam followed by what sounded like chains being dragged before there was another slam and the spikey door finally opened. A man appeared through the doorway. He was tall and lean, with short red hair, and was dressed in a gray t-shirt, army pants and boots. He had a very impressive automatic trained their way.

“Daron.”

Erica let out a whistle, while Danny gave the man a sloppy salute. Kira just waved a hand.

Derek stepped forward. “Kasin, we’re here on business.”

This Kasin guy seemed to be an acquaintance, but he still looked at them suspiciously. “Boss dun’ say nothin’ about you people comin’.”

“We got in touch with Kutika yesterday and we’re–”

“Well, boss ain’t here so we got no business wit’ you,” Kasin said. He patted his sidearm. “Leave.”

Jackson stepped forward, obviously impatient and annoyed. He waved his hands. “Wait. Wait. Hold on a second.”

Stiles sighed. “Jackson, if you get shot, I’m going to laugh over your corpse.” He ignored Lydia’s pinch to his hip.

Jackson raised his chin at Kasin. “I’m the one with business with Kutika.”

The man looked at Jackson and his douchebag hair and annoying face – and okay Stiles might be projecting. To his credit, the man didn’t laugh or look surprised.

“Wow,” Stiles murmured to Danny. “He could give Boyd a run for his money in the poker face department.”

“She promised me a full deck,” Jackson added.

Kasin scoffed. “You? Boss ain’t runnin’ a charity here kid. We dun’ barter for nothin’.”

Jackson scoffed. “Why barter when I can pay?”

That got a smirk from the other man. “Fine, then. Boss did say some hotshot migh’ come, but she said nothin’ about makin’ promises. Still, I’ll let ya try your luck, boy. It’ll prob’ be amusin’.”

He stepped back and yelled in Arabic to someone inside ( _We got guests!_ ), before two men and two women appeared, none of whom was the petite leftie brunette Stiles saw earlier. All of them had weapons at the ready. Kasin waved a hand.

“Who’s comin’ in?”

As planned, Erica, Kira, and Isaac hung back while Derek, Jackson, Danny, and Stiles stepped forward. Lydia was silently fuming but eventually stepped back, glaring at Stiles. Derek and Danny represented Daron, while Jackson and Lydia pretty much had the deepest pockets in their group. Stiles wasn’t even going to take part in negotiations, not at first, but if his hunch was right, then they might be able to get out of this thing alive. Hence why he was going and Lydia had to sit out.

Derek led the way. They stripped themselves of all their weapons and left them with the others. Once they were done, they stepped forward and allowed themselves to be patted down. Stiles and the others followed their lead. Kutika’s people were a little rough, but they worked quickly and efficiently.

“Come’n,” Kasin said.

Stiles looked back. Erica looked bored, Kira looked patient, while the more transparent Lydia and Isaac looked angry-worried and just plain worried. Stiles didn’t want to think this would be the last time he was seeing his friends.

(Okay, Stiles might be overreacting. It wasn’t that Kutika was going to kill them per se, not with Derek and Danny there. But she still might have her minions fire a few shots.)

The inside of the building was certainly large, but it wasn’t as dark as Stiles expected despite all the boarded up windows and doors. Strategic windows and skylights were left open, some of them with armed guards situated close by, most likely to look through them and guard them from any attempted break-ins. It was a lot cooler too, with exhaust fans and ceiling fans swirling round and round over their heads. The entire building had an open plan concept with stairs and walkways with railings winding along the walls of the building, allowing Stiles and company to see and be seen by Kutika’s army. And what an army it was. There were five levels from the ground up that stretched around the entire facility, and each one seemed to be guarded by no less than ten men and women toting guns and decked out in body armor, guarding rooms, and generally being terrifying.

If the upper levels and the eyes trained on them weren’t already intimidating, ground level was already a veritable fortress. The open floor was incredibly wide, enough to contain a few vehicles (two jeeps, a few motorcycles, and a van from what he could see), shelves of weapons and ammo, and other boxes. Chains and a heavy grating, like a portcullis, covered the heavy gates from the inside. The heavy doors with eyeslits were also studiously manned, as were the various doors and hallways that led to deeper parts of the building.

A woman –  the brunette, petite, angry woman Stiles saw earlier – walked towards them, narrow-eyed and wary, with her left hand on her gun.

“Lejan, these the ones boss was tellin’ us ‘bout,” Kasin said, before switching tongues. _“The stupid, greasy, blond rich boy is looking for the boss.”_

Stiles noticed Jackson’s shoulders twitch. It wasn’t a surprise if Daron knew Arabic considering their occupation, but no one knew that Stiles did too, as did Lydia and Isaac.

_“I am neither stupid nor greasy, but I am rich.”_

And apparently Jackson as well.

Huh. Even Stiles didn’t know that.

Jackson’s Arabic had an accent, but it was clear all the same. He looked bored too, completely unintimidated by Kutika’s people. _“I made a deal with Kutika, so can we get on with it? And name-calling is so juvenile.”_ He checked his watch. _“We’re wasting time as it is. We still have places to go to and people to meet.”_

Lejan smirked, a bloodthirsty expression on such a slight woman. “Well, well, I see we’re not dealing with regular civvies, are we? Should have expected it from anyone Daron was dealing with.”

Jackson let out a bark of laughter. “If anything, _we’re_ the ones who have to deal with them.”

Derek acquiesced, nodding. “In this case, what he said is true. We’re only mediators this time.”

Lejan and Kasin glanced at one another, before Lejan nodded and waved a hand for them to follow her. “Boss left us a message, told us you people were coming. But we’ll have to check if she can take your call.”

“Wait, call?” Stiles spoke up. “So, Kutika’s not here?”

“You can still talk to her, just not in person,” Lejan said, looking back coolly. “And if she doesn’t answer, then tough luck. The boss has got better things to do than entertain the likes of you.”

“Whether in person or not, it doesn’t matter to us,” Jackson said. “What matters is what we agree on.”

Lejan’s steps didn’t falter, but she looked back at them darkly. Kasin looked mildly interested at what was happening, but they both remained mum.

Stiles tried to maintain a neutral face, but he noticed Derek caught it. Stiles stepped up beside him and Derek nodded subtly to him. It was obvious Kutika and her army relished in a bout of power play. Unfortunately for her, Stiles’ friends were pretty used to power plays, specifically winning them.

They followed Lejan up a short flight of stairs to the second level and down the hall to a door guarded by two women who regarded Stiles and his group menacingly.

“Stay here.” Lejan walked inside.

Kasin and the two women kept their eyes on them, which was honestly really creepy and really nerve-wracking. Derek and Danny didn’t seem affected, neither was Jackson. Stiles wasn’t, but he couldn’t help rocking on the soles of his boots. He noticed Danny move closer to Jackson while Derek leaned back against the railings, effectively boxing all the civilians between them. Stiles couldn’t help feeling grateful.

Stiles looked around instead, checking on the windows and the levels. He paused, noting something odd about the architecture of the inside. He hummed thoughtfully and sniffed the air.

The door was thrown open again with a creak. Lejan appeared, looking displeased.

“She’ll take your call.”

They walked inside what looked like an office. At the left side of the room were two filing cabinets and a series of shelves built into the wall that were packed with books, folders, and files, while a World Map was painted across the entire wall to their right. Across the door was a coffee table surrounded by three couches and a few armchairs, all of which faced the enormous glass-topped wooden table carrying a large, wide, flat screen flanked by speakers.

The infamous Kutika was a voluptuous woman, with dark brown skin, long blonde hair that reached past her back, and sharp brown eyes. A large burn mark spanned half the left side of her face and a multitude of scars spanned her neck and upper chest. She was probably in her late thirties to early forties, decked out in a deep blue suit, tie loosened and askew about her neck, shirt unbuttoned to the top of her chest, and tight pants. She had a scotch glass in one hand and was lounging casually on a rich red sofa. She regarded the camera with a striking gaze that made it seem she was still in the room and not on a screen.

Danny sat at the left side, and Stiles sat at the other, just an arm’s length away from Derek. Daron’s leader sat down beside Jackson across from Kutika. Lejan stood to the side close to the screen, while Kasin remained close to the door.

 _“Derek, Daniel,”_ Kutika’s static-lined, but commanding voice erupted from the speakers.

Danny raised a hand in greeting, while Derek bowed his head politely. “Kutika.”

 _“I see you have some new faces with you.”_ Kutika glanced around the room.

“Friends we’ve made on the road – adventurous and smart,” Derek said.

“And filthy rich, apparently,” Lejan snorted.

Derek patted Jackson’s shoulder. “This is Jackson Whittemore, you’ve talked to him. And this is his frien, Stiles.”

Stiles waved awkwardly

Kutika hummed, taking a sip of her glass. _“I’ve had a long day and I’m really not in the mood to be bothered, but to be honest, I was intrigued. It’s rare for me to have new blood knocking on my door to talk to me; rarer still for it to be Daron bringing me some new playthings.”_

Playthings, Stiles fought a shiver.

Jackson leaned forward. “We were prospective customers. It was certainly to your advantage to listen to what I had to say.”

 _“My advantage?”_ Kutika smirked, the curve of her lip tugging at the burn mark across her cheek. _“I’ve never been at a disadvantage, darling.”_

Jackson raised his chin at her. “Neither have I.”

Kutika tapped the glass against the side of her knee, eyeing Jackson. _“We’re from different worlds, Mister Whittemore. Don’t think you can compare.”_

Jackson leaned back. “I’m not comparing, but money is the only thing that matters in this case, doesn’t it?”

Kutika laughed. _“Well, well, well. For the first time in a long time, I’m not dealing directly with Daron for this, eh? It's certainly a surprise that Daron would have civilians running errands for them.”_

Before Derek or Danny could respond, Jackson spoke on. “Our relationship and the nature of our work together isn't really your business though, is it?”

 _“It’s not, not really.”_ Kutika smirked, not even offended. She reached for something offscreen and leaned back to reveal a tumbler of more scotch.

“So, seeing as that's not your problem, let’s get on to business,” Jackson pressed on. “Will you be able to provide all the goods we require?”

Kutika refilled her glass, returned the tumbler, and then took a sip, movements slow yet precise. _“Yes, yes, I can. It'll cost you though. You can't be arrogant enough to expect that it won't. I assume Derek and Daniel have informed you of my fees.”_

Jackson shrugged. “I know what it might cost us, but I'm also here to negotiate a decent price.”

Kutika laughed, so amused the marks on her face creased with it. _“You are the beggars who need what we can provide. Why do you think you can go and negotiate for something where you are obviously at a loss?”_ She threw back her entire drink and smirked at them through stained lips. _“I’m not lacking in clients,_ boy _. I can offer my resources to more people who can certainly afford **my** prices and **my** deals.”_

Stiles noticed Jackson’s shoulder hitch, before the man dropped a bomb.

“I’m guessing the drugs play a part in those deals then?”

The dead silence that followed was so loud it was _deafening_.

Stiles sensed Derek and Danny tense up at that. Lejan certainly looked ready to shoot them, and Stiles could practically feel Derek suddenly on high alert. He was surprised guns weren’t drawn, like in the movies.

Derek gave him a look. _‘You better be right about this, Stiles.’_

Kutika’s gaze flashed, and her eyes looked sharp enough to cut them all through the screen. _“You don't know who you're talking to, boy. I don't deal with drugs.”_

Jackson waved a hand, all nonchalant and bored. “You’re good though, I’ll give you that, but my associate has got sharp eyes and a sharper memory. It's easy to see, dangerously easy.” He nodded to Stiles.

Stiles nodded back, affecting a cooler demeanor than he really had. As much as he didn’t want to look like Jackson’s lackey, there was something to be said for presenting a united front and he didn’t want Jackson to lose this game. He shuffled forward on his seat, briefly pressing a knee against Derek’s in comfort. He closed his eyes for a second, remembering everything he had seen earlier and had told Jackson and Derek about. Thank god for his memory.

Stiles turned to Kutika, staring at her straight on. “You’ve got a warning sign out back. I couldn’t quite read it, but I saw the skull mark as a sign for chemical waste. You’ve got improvised heating and cooling machines out back – you can hear them humming and working overtime – plus you have a rather high-grade incinerator, you’ll notice it from the chimney spouts on the roof. It’s usually so much easier to burn things rather than put them out, or maybe you do both? And I’m just eyeballing the size of your little establishment here, but going by the size, you’ve managed to conceal a little hidey-hole out back, whether it’s for storage or production, I don’t know.”

“Then there are the small things.” Stiles pointed a thumb over his shoulder towards the heart of the building. “All your windows are covered and the curtains are closed. Your doors are designed to check for eyes – watery eyes and bloodshot eyes are pretty quick signs of users, though not foolproof. When your people frisked us, they checked our arms too, probably for needle marks.” He waved to a fuming Lejan. “Lejan had her people put clothes, clothes that were recently laundered by a cleaning service, out in the garage. Cleaning companies are pretty well-known fronts for dens. It’s easy for them to order chemicals and whatnot under the radar.”

Kutika looked at him like he just spouted nonsense, which to be fair, was pretty likely. _“This was an old chemical factory, boy._ _And you can't make statements based on conjecture or mere coincidence.”_

Stiles shrugged. He knew that was what she might say. “Maybe, but what really tipped me off was the smell. You can’t hide the chemical smell of a drug lab. It’s mixed in with the gunpowder, sand, and whatever else you’ve got going on to hide it, but to someone who knows the smell, it’s easy to pick up on the moment you step in here. Coupled with the exhaust fans, most likely to eliminate some more of the smell, I was pretty sure I was at least 80-20 on guessing right.”

Jackson spoke up, turning to Stiles in casual conversation. “I’ll say it’s about 90-10 when I saw one of Kutika’s men over at the fourth level southeast window smoking what was definitely a one-hitter.”

Ooh. Stiles didn’t notice that. Good on Jackson. He nodded to him. “If he’s standing close to an exhaust fan to hide the smell, then my point stands.”

Jackson turned back to Kutika. “But again, as you said, it’s probably all just guesses. I just wanted to put our cards on the table, as it were, especially considering drugs are highly illegal in this country.”

“So is illegal arms dealing, come to that,” Stiles added. “But that’s already on the table anyway.”

Lejan was wide-eyed and fuming, left trigger hand twitching. Kutika, on the other hand, didn’t look stunned or surprised in the slightest. Her face was instead set in an unreadable mask.

 _“Supposing you are correct, you don’t really expect us to… allow you to retain that information, do you?”_ She raised an eyebrow at them.

Jackson shrugged. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and placed it on the coffee table across from him. The screen flashed with a GPS sign. “Not really, but considering it’ll look suspicious for a bunch of foreigners, including the nephew of a well-renowned historian, to disappear from within your walls at the location of one of your headquarters, then I can say we’re at a stalemate.”

Kutika’s eyes narrowed. _“I don't make idle threats or comments, nor do I appreciate threats.”_

Jackson waved at himself and his companions. “Neither do we. But if we’re already paying for illegal arms, then we don’t mind taking a few cases off you if it’ll give us a better deal.”

A beat of silence.

Then Kutika started to laugh, so loud and boisterous that Lejan jumped in surprise, gaping at the screen. Even Derek and Danny jerked in shock. Kutika leaned forward, shoulders shaking, chest heaving, elbows on her knees, and her drink spilling from the glass held between lax fingers.

When she finally lost wind, Kutika gasped for air. She wiped tears from her eyes. _“You two are good. Improve your timing on what to say and you'll really take shape.”_

Stiles shrugged, but Jackson frowned. “I take offense to that.”

Kutika chuckled. _“I know you do, boy, which is why I said it.”_ She smirked broadly. _“I am far too well-known in my line of work to sully it with the temperamental and unsteady nature of the drug trade. I dabble with it, but I find that men’s appetite for violence is far more profitable and entertaining than cultivating an army that’s half brain-dead and half high as a fucking kite. However, drugs still have their uses in controlled dosages. You’d do best to remember that.”_

She turned to Lejan. _“They’re a bit rough, but they pass. Kasin, Lejan, give them what they want.”_

Lejan sighed deeply. She was obviously annoyed, but she was obedient. “Yes, boss.”

Jackson leaned forward. “Decent price?”

 _“Keep dreaming, boy,”_ Kutika scoffed. _“I’ll give you what you’re worth, and speaking of…”_ She turned her gaze. _“Derek, Daniel, it’s interesting to see you both participate in this. If your gamble didn’t pay off, you might have lost my business and my confidence.”_

“Maybe, but we had faith.” Derek glanced at Stiles and pressed their knees together. Stiles tried not to look too relieved that nothing of the sort happened.

Kutika snapped her fingers and a figure appeared just off screen by her feet to wipe up the mess and bring her a new drink _.  “Seems you’ve got a good group with you. And for bringing me some new playthings and providing such a rousing display, I’ll give you all a word of warning. For free.”_

Even Derek looked a bit taken aback. “How generous.”

Kutika smirked. _“You better believe it.”_ Her amusement lowered for the moment, allowing a serious expression to take its place. _“There’s been an unusual rise in activity surrounding Cairo. Not sure why, not sure who’s leading the parade, and not sure what for, but I’ve been hearing Daron’s name being bandied about… including Evelyn Carnahan.”_

“What? Why?” Stiles piped up. Shit. He and Jackson glanced at one another.

“Why?” Danny asked too. “She’s a civilian.”

_“Maybe, but apparently someone’s been keeping an eye on her. You best make sure you’ve got eyes on her too.”_

“Isaac isn’t going to like that,” Stiles muttered, biting his thumb nail.

“What else do you know?” Jackson asked, frowning.

 _“I can’t find a source or a reason,”_ Kutika said, leaning back. _“But whatever it is, it’s picking up steam. From what I can gather, it’s related to what you wolves have been doing the past few weeks, your little treasure hunt.”_ She took a sip from her new glass. “ _Frankly, I’m staying out of it and leaving it to you._ ”

“I see,” Derek muttered. He frowned. “Thank you for the warning at least.”

“Derek.” Stiles turned to Derek. That obviously wasn’t enough.

Derek stared him down, his eyes a clear warning. Stiles swallowed his words.

_“Lejan?”_

Lejan snapped to attention. “Yes, boss?”

Kutika waved her glass at them. _“Full price on everything they need, service fee and overhead included, but let’s waive the rush fee.”_

Stiles didn’t know what that meant, but going by Lejan’s shocked inhale, Jackson’s widening eyes, Kasin cursing in Arabic behind them, and Danny suddenly exclaiming, “What? Are you serious? Are you _serious_?” then obviously something big just happened.

Kutika rolled her eyes at all their reaction. _“Consider it a discount, especially for the boy’s_ tips _on how to better mask our little side business.”_ Kutika waved her glass at Stiles’ direction. _“I like you kids. Come visit us again. Hopefully we can meet face to face.”_

Transmission was immediately cut off, leaving the room a shocked mess.

 

* * *

 

 

Despite Kutika’s influence, resources, and her ridiculously generous price – Stiles saw the bill, okay? And the necessities were fucking pricey enough that waiving the additional astronomical rush fee was a literal godsend even for Daron, Jackson and Lydia’s bank accounts combined – it was still going to take two days at the least to gather everything they needed. Thankfully, Daron had some other contacts who managed to put them up in a small hut of a house near the edge of the town. It was a squeeze what with eleven people and only two rooms, a small kitchen and dining room-slash-seating area, and an even tinier bathroom, but they made do.

And thankfully, Kasin and Lejan retrieved Boyd, Allison, and Scott, and had their two other jeeps towed right after their conversation with Kutika.

With so much time on their hands, the group found different ways to kill time.

Derek and Jackson, accompanied by Erica and Boyd, who both seemed to get along with Lejan and Kasin, both spent time at Kutika’s warehouse, checking on the resupplying and playing around with any of the weapons and vehicles they were allowed to touch.

Allison and Scott were the ones who looked after their little hut, keeping them all well-fed and guarding all their important items.

Danny had been the one to break the news about Kutika’s information to Isaac, and the male had been a whirlwind since he had heard about Kutika’s warning. Professor Evy was busy working at that dig site with Professor Duke and Isaac knew his Aunt wasn’t some damsel in distress, but he was still worried and torn between continuing this adventure or abandoning it to be by her side.

As Isaac’s worries grew, he spent his time out on the town. Isaac had always had a habit of skulking around and picking pockets and getting into who knew what trouble, but the hovering of any of his friends was only making him antsier. The only ones who seemed to have any modicum of control or influence over him were Danny and Kira, both of whom took turns accompanying Isaac on his excursions and kept him away from most trouble.

Lydia and Stiles – and either Kira or Danny, depending on who had Isaac duties – spent most of their energy and time on figuring out the clue of the slave, or rather, liberty coin, poring through books, maps, and articles.

The silver coin had the Kingdom of Tanti's seal etched on one side while the other had a series of symbols on it, something that passed as a serial number back in the days.

“The last sighted Tantian slave coin was auctioned off for five-point-eight US dollars three years ago,” Stiles mentioned during their first night in the hut. They were all packed inside like sardines, squeezed together and feeding on the potato soup Allison and Scott prepared earlier. “One side was a bit charred, but the other had a visible copy of the Kingdom of Tanti's seal. It was bought for the private collection of a billionaire living in New Zealand.”

“Edri Ahnau,” Danny muttered from where he was curled up on an armchair with Isaac, who he had accompanied earlier today. “Yeah, we know him.”

“We thought of stealing the coin from him,” Kira shared. “But he was a nice man and he was a big history buff. He supported the renaming of the coins into liberty coins.”

“Was the coin originally yours?” Allison asked. “Like one of the treasures taken from your vaults?”

“No, but it would have been nice to take it,” Danny shrugged, grinning when Isaac chuckled in amusement beside him.

“But think of the condition that one was in,” Stiles commented, studying the coin in his fingers, “Compared to this one, that one was ridiculously lacking. I can't even imagine how much this one is worth in the market.”

“Thinking of selling it?” Derek asked from where he was sitting close to the open window.

Stiles shook his head, holding the coin up to the light. “First of all, let’s not pretend you all aren’t going to shoot me if I even get the vaguest thought of doing so. Second of all, no offense to your New Zealand friend, but the historical value of this far outweighs the monetary value. Imagine what’s behind this little piece of metal, the wealth of stories, and the weight of the memories it brings.”

“How very noble of you,” Erica said, disbelief coloring her tone.

“You can laugh,” Stiles said, grinning. “But my dad’s a cop, I’ve seen what money does to people. I mean look at Jackson.”

Everyone laughed and Stiles ducked at the spoon Jackson threw his way, chuckling.

“You’re not cute, Stilinski.” Jackson glared and rolled his eyes.

Kira cleared her throat delicately. “We’ve been told enough times to stop living in the past though.” It was a question, but not quite.

“I suppose when you’re treasure hunters, that’s a common argument,” Stiles said. “I mean, you guys have proof that you’re historical royalty. The fame alone is probably going to set you up for life. Plus, you probably have enough rare treasures to sell to make museums all over the world weep, or rake in the kind of money that your New Zealand friend was so willing to pay for even the smallest trinket.” Stiles shrugged. “But that’s boring.”

“Most people don’t find money as boring as you do, Stiles,” Allison said, laughing.

Stiles grinned. His friends were far too used to him and his odd obsession, but the members of Daron all looked at him strangely. Derek, most of all, looked at him oddly.

“I’m not that averse to money,” Stiles said. “Maybe I’m lucky and privileged enough to be able to talk this way since it’s just my Dad and I, and we aren’t so hard up for cash. But think about it. If we found these treasures and then sold them, then all we’re ever going to want is to find more and sell more, but it’s never going to be enough.”

He flipped the liberty coin in the air and snatched it neatly. “But imagine finding this liberty coin and figuring out every single story this piece of treasure has seen. That’s worth a lot more than a fat bank account.”

Jackson groaned, turning to Lydia. “You know, sometimes I wonder why the hell we even treat Stilinski to stuff if all he ever does is talk shit about our money.”

Stiles fluttered his eyelashes at him. “Because you love me and I make your life more exciting?”

Jackson kicked his shin and walked off to the tiny kitchen.

“You didn’t deny it, Jackson!” Stiles called out as everybody else laughed. At the corner of his eye, he noticed Derek suddenly jerk up, before stomping off out the door. He seemed… mad?

Stiles looked at the others, confused. Danny didn’t seem surprised at his cousin, Kira looked knowing, while Erica just resumed eating.

 “Did I say something wrong?” he asked them.

“No, you said something right.”

Stiles jumped up in surprise.

Boyd spoke rarely enough, even rarer if it was to one of them and not one of Daron. He looked at Stiles intensely before standing up. He deposited his and Derek’s plates into the kitchen before following after Derek. Just before Boyd closed the door behind him, Stiles caught a glimpse of Derek standing outside, hands on his hips and shoulders a tense line.

“He’ll be fine,” Danny said.

“Uh… okay, then?” Stiles said.

Scott leaned to Stiles. “Seriously, that Derek is such an enigma.”

“Come on,” Kira said. “Let’s eat some more. Allison and Scott made really good soup.”

Allison beamed. “Thanks. There’s a nice boy over at the market who taught us how to. He was very helpful too.”

“I like it,” Kira said. “Who wants a refill?”

As everybody requested for more food, Stiles looked back at the door.

Derek had more cause than most of them to take this treasure hunt seriously. Stiles probably said something that struck him. Though whether it was a good or bad thing, Stiles wasn’t sure. He had to remember to apologize tomorrow, just to be sure.


End file.
